


Malevolent

by groovymutation



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock - Fandom, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Demons, F/M, Lore - Freeform, Multiple Crossovers, Warlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:03:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 64
Words: 92,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2107425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovymutation/pseuds/groovymutation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2014, London and Sherlock's new flatmate, a young woman with knowledge beyond the ordinary, has stumbled across something bizarre at St Bart's morgue. Two strangers awaken on the slabs, claiming to be from a time that's two hundred years ahead, but there's something off about their story that no one can quite put a finger on. </p><p>On the other side of London, a man with a thinning thread of humanity and a mind full of malice plots his next move against the City, realizing he possibly may need a little more fire power. Meanwhile, on the banks of the Thames, sits the blonde haired blue eyed High Warlock of London with a taste for mischief and a longing to use it. </p><p>(Slightly AU in the sense of Sebastian being High Warlock. Mostly crossover with ideas borrowed from other fandoms. Massive crossover. Unbeta'd work.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quietus

**Author's Note:**

> Malevolent; having or showing a wish to do evil to others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quietus; death or something that causes death, regarded as a release from life.

Neatening a stack of paperwork, Evelina turned her attention to the final file that needed to be looked over that evening as Molly made her way through the doors and handed her back a file she'd just signed off.

"Last one?" Molly smiled sweetly as she nodded at the file Evelina was about to open. "You can give me a hand if you like, there's two of them. Looks a bit sketchy if you ask me, it's probably more your area than mine."

"Well, that's what Sherlock has me here for," Evelina shrugged one shoulder and tucked the file under her arm. "Anything weird."

"Everything's weird where Sherlock's involved," Molly's smile widened as she led Evelina from the lab and down the hall to the morgue. "It's nice to have you back for a while, by the way. It gets boring here."

"I'm glad to be back," Evelina patted Molly on the back as they walked into the morgue. "Which sounds...odd, considering this is a morgue."

Molly broke a laugh and Evelina put the file down on a desk before she pulled on a pair of latex, white gloves. Pulling open the large fridge door, Molly pulled out one gurney and pointed at the other for Evelina to take care of. 

Once the gurneys were out, they aided one another in getting them onto the slabs. Both bodies were sealed in body bags, fresh from the crime scene, and as Evelina pulled the zipper back, she half braced herself to see something macabre. 

"Oh, there's nothing gruesome," Molly informed her when she saw how she was reclining from the slab. "In fact, the report states there's no injuries of any kind. They were found out back of one of the theaters in Soho."

"No injuries?" Evelina said. "So how'd they die?"

"Greg reckons heart attack," she answered as she pulled the bag back from the face of her body. "But both at once in the same place seems off to me."

"Yeah, me too," Evelina frowned as she glanced over at the body on Molly's slab. "He's handsome, y'know, for a dead guy."

The body on Molly's slab was indeed handsome. Though his skin was paled, it was smooth with few marks and blemishes. His hair was dark yellow, not quite blonde and not quite brown, and still partly styled into a sort of quiff. 

"John Doe," Molly said as she touched her hands to his face. "Neither of them have a name."

Evelina made a thoughtful hum as she pulled the bag back from the face of the body on her slab and looked down to it. 

"Well, hell," she gave a disappointed sigh. "They're both damn good looking, that's a crying shame."

Molly peered over her shoulder to see the body on Evelina's slab was just as handsome as the one on hers. His hair was a deep chestnut brown and pushed over to the left side of his face. Faint freckles still lingered on his paling skin that had a hint of colour still left in it, dotting about his face and neck.

Molly returned to her own slab as Evelina pulled the rest of the bag back to expose the rest of the body, her eyebrows knitting together when they saw the attire on the body she had. 

"What in the hell are they wearing?" she glanced over to Molly's body to see if hers was dressed similar and she wasn't wrong. "They look like Star Trek shirts. You know, from the new movies?"

Molly looked a little lost and frowned a little and Evelina returned the glance. 

"I thought Tom loved Star Trek," Evelina gave a slight smile. "He's a bit of a dork, right?"

"Doesn't mean I pay attention to it," one of Molly's eyebrows raised a little as her lips curved upwards. 

Evelina laughed and turned her attention back to the body on her table, glancing over the royal blue, long sleeved shirt occupying her bodies body. 

"You said they were found in Soho, by one of the theatres," Evelina called over her shoulder to Molly who was closely examining the blondes face. "Right?"

"Out back of one of the theatres in Soho," she corrected her. "Greg already checked around for missing cast; they're not part of any of the shows."

"And it's definitely not Comic Con or LFCC," Evelina mused. "It's January for Christ's sake so there's no real reason for them to be dressed how they are."

At that moment, the phone in the small office rang and Molly left her body to answer it, leaving Evelina alone in the morgue. She turned her back to the slabs to consult the file she'd placed down whilst Molly chatted on the phone. 

Neither of them saw the bodies stirring on the slabs and it was Molly who shrieked first, causing Evelina to drop the file and send papers flying everywhere. Spinning on her heel, Evelina saw the two bodies sitting up, hands pressed to heads and she too screamed and stumbled backwards, sending metallic equipment thundering to the hard floor below. 

"Can you stop screaming?" the blonde complained. "Jesus Christ."

It wasn't like this was the first time the dead had risen in the morgue at St. Bart's, but it never got any easier to deal with and Molly frantically looked to Evelina for an idea of what to do. 

Regaining her composure, Evelina found her feet and regarded the two men who were now looking at her and Molly with puzzled looks and looking around the room in almost sheer horror. 

"Where are we?" the blonde demanded as he felt around his belt for something. "What is this place?"

"You're in a morgue," Molly informed him, sidestepping around the morgue until she reached the slab where he was sat. "If you're looking for anything you had on you, it'll be at the police station."

"Morgue," the brunette choked out the word and looked frantically around him. "I'm on a..."

"Slab," Evelina filled in the word for him as his wide eyes snapped to her. "You were pronounced dead."

"Well, I can assure you I ain't," he said with southern tones lacing through his voice. "And I ought to know because I'm a damn doctor."

Evelina could now see that the body she had taken to investigate had regained some colour and his skin was tanned. A few freckles became more prominent, one in particular on his left cheek and another on the right side of his chin by the corner of his lips. 

"Well," Evelina drew out the word and looked to Molly. "That's a start on one of the John Doe's."

The blonde was glaring at Evelina with a furrowed brow, glacial blue eyes hidden beneath it as he shimmied his way out of the rest of the body bag and swung his legs over the table; he was barefoot. 

"This place is giving me the heebies," the blonde wriggled his toes and thought about sliding from the slab, but Molly had fixed a gloved hand tight around his wrist. "I wanna get out of here."

"Morgues tend to have that effect on people," Molly informed him before she looked to Evelina. "Maybe we should take them up to the lab."

Evelina glanced at Molly before she moved over to the slab she'd been occupying herself; she'd had a thought whilst she'd been watching the blonde wriggle his toes. The brunette watched as she stood at his side and reached a hand out to his arm which he snatched away from her grasp. 

"What are you doin'?" he growled. 

"Maybe your friend will be more forthcoming," she returned his glare and turned to the other slab where the blonde was giving her a puzzled look. "May I see your hands?"

The blonde hesitantly placed his hands out before him and Evelina took his left and inspected it closely as she gently turned it this way and that. 

"Molly?" she inquired. "Could you fetch me a dish and a scalpel?"

Molly did as she was asked and grabbed what Evelina had requested. Being as gentle as she could, Evelina scraped something powdery and yellowish in colour from beneath the blondes fingernails before she placed it into the dish and turned back to the brunette. 

"That's all I wanted to do," she said calmly. "Now please, can I see your hands?"

The brunette peered around her to the blonde who gave him a slight, reassuring nod and watched as his friend hand thrust his right hand into the grasp of the young woman standing between the morgue slabs. 

"I'm sure its what I think it is," she looked to Molly. "But have it analyzed all the same."

With a curt nod, Molly left the room with the dishes and returned mere moments later to see what they were going to do about the rising dead.

"Well?" Molly asked as the bodies now sat facing one another on their respective slabs. "What should we do?"

"I think we should find out more about them," Evelina said, glancing between the pair. "I'm overly sure there's sulfur under their nails, 99% sure they've been possessed."

"And the other 1%?" Molly asked, naturally calm about the whole situation; she'd worked alongside Evelina long enough now to know the game in it's entirety.

"Is a weird, wacky and wonderful 1%," she answered her. "There's something off about them. You take the blonde, I'll take the brunette and we'll talk to them separately before we decide what to do next. At least we might get a name and a little bit of something, even if they don't remember how in the hell they got here."

-

With a nervous look between them, the two John Does slipped from the morgue slabs and padded, still barefoot, after the two women who led them down the hall and back into the quiet lab. 

Most of the staff had left for the night and the lab was put away clean and tidy. Molly led the blonde to the other end of the lab, leading him into the lab next door whilst Evelina invited the brunette to sit opposite her as she grabbed a pen and paper. 

"So, you gonna interrogate me?" the brunette crossed his arms and rested them on the edge of the table. "Cause I ain't talkin'."

The lab was darkened apart from the surface of the table that was lit up white and some under lighting installed beneath the cupboards that housed the equipment. 

"I'm not a police officer," Evelina answered him. "Or FBI, CSI, MI5 or whatever the hell else you think I am. I'm a temporary morgue technician working here indefinitely."

"And where is here?" he enquired.

"I thought you weren't talking?" Evelina lifted her eyes from the paper she was scrawling on to look up to him as he gave her a small scowl and scanned the walls. "You're in St. Bartholomew's Hospital, the Pathology wing to be exact."

"And where is this hospital?" he turned back to her, one brow skeptically raised. 

"London," she said; she had to give him the benefit of the doubt, he'd been dead on a slab in the morgue a half hour prior to this. 

"London," the name choked out of his mouth as he tried not to laugh. "Well, alright then."

Evelina turned her attention back to the paper pad before her and scribbled down some notes before she looked back at him. 

"Lets start smaller," she folded her hands together. "What's your name?"

"Leonard McCoy," he answered her. "Doctor, Leonard McCoy."

"Uh-huh," Evelina noted it down. "How old are you? When's your birthday?"

"That's a little personal, aint it?" he asked.

"Run of the mill questions, Mr. McCoy," she gave him a breezy smile and he gave her a jaundiced look. 

"Two dead bodies just woke up in your morgue," he leant over the table slightly. "And you aint even battin' an eyelid. Hell, you're talkin' to one!"

"Yep and the Earth goes around the sun and pigs most definitely do not fly," she gave him another smile. "Answer the question, please, Mr. McCoy." 

Leonard resigned himself back to his seat, eyes narrowed and glaring at the woman across from him.

"29," he grunted. "I was born January 20th, 2222."

Evelina moved to write down the information before she stopped and looked up to him with and unimpressed expression. 

"Look, I get you don't wanna be here," she put down her pen. "But you're gonna be here a whole lot longer if you start playing silly beggers."

Leonard scowled even harder at her but she refused to look away.

"I answered the damn question!" he retorted. 

"Well, you must be lying," she crossed her arms. "2222?"

"I was born in 2222," he growled. "In Walnut Grove, Georgia."

"Mr. McCoy," Evelina sighed deeply, "Do you know what year it is currently?" 

"Of course I know the damn year!" he moved to stand up from the stool he'd been perched on. "It's 2251. I just turned 29."

"Yeah it was January 20th just last week," she informed him as she did some quick maths in her head. "But you didn't turn 29, you turned 237."

"The hell I did!" Leonard looked practically livid now. "Just where in the hell am I?!"

"I told you, you're in London," she said calmly. "It's 2014, look."

She got up and snagged the paper off of one of the technician's work spaces and flipped it around so Leonard could read it. She pointed out the date and Leonard sat back down and looked at her over the table. 

"Look, kid," he clasped his hands together.

"Evelina," she corrected him. 

"Whatever," he waved her name away with his hand. "I don't know what game you and that other woman are playin' here, but I don't like it."

"It's 2014," she lifted her pen to make more notes. "I don't think anyone likes it." 

Leonard's hands curled into fists as she continued to write on the paper in front of her. After a moment, she looked back up to him.

"Do you remember how you got here?" she asked. "I mean not here, here. I mean how you ended up in London."

Leonard opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. His brow furrowed and his shoulders sank as he studied the table top. With a resigned sigh, he reluctantly answered with what information he could remember.

"Somethin' happened on the ship, Jim and I came down to check out where we were," he said; Jim must be the charming blonde Molly had. "I don't remember much else." 

"You've no idea of how you came to be sitting across from me?" she asked.

"No ma'am," he shook his head slightly. "I don't believe it's 2014; it's pretty easy to bullshit a scenario where everythin' looks old."

"You have hovercars or whatever from where you're from?" she asked. 

He gave a nod and Evelina got up from her seat and strolled over to the window, rolling up one of the metal blinds that boasted the street outside and beyond.

"Then, Mr. McCoy, I invite you to look out of this window," she beckoned him over. "And tell me just how much of this huge city you think I can actually bullshit."

He gave her an apprehensive look, but eventually crossed to where she stood hugging the paper pad to her chest. He looked out of the window expecting to see a hoverbus or a stream of hovercars and towering, gleaming structures that rose into the skies, but instead he saw roads and streetlamps, cars on wheels and double-decker buses with flickering lights. 

"Well, that could be a hologram," Leonard argued but his face had paled somewhat; even he had to admit that it was a little too realistic to be a hologram. 

"It could," Evelina shrugged one shoulder slightly and rolled her head a little. "But it's just a window. You okay?"

"What the hell do you think?" he turned a glare on her and she rolled her eyes, throwing her paper pad to one side. 

"Look, I'm sorry you're 237 years behind yourself," she said firmly. "But it's not my fault and I don't know how I can fix this or if fixing this is even possible."

It wasn't often that Evelina couldn't fix something, but without the TARDIS and The Doctor who could be back a week of Tuesday or a year on Friday, it seemed like a lost cause. 

"Frankly I'm just damn alarmed that this seems normal to you!" his voice raised and his hands flew out either side of him. "Because you ain't acting damn weird about it!"

"Pardon me for exceeding your expectations!" she yelled back. 

"What's...going on?" Molly appeared in the room with the blonde behind her who was severely frowning at Leonard who was still seething.

"John Doe's having a reality crisis," Evelina snatched up her paper pad and left Molly alone with the both of them as she headed out of the lab. 

"Right," Molly said awkwardly. "You need a place to stay."

-

Evelina sat for some time alone in the lab that Molly had previously occupied with the blonde. A steaming cup of coffee sat before her on the table as she rubbed at her temples and scanned over her notes.

_Leonard McCoy, born January 20th 2222, aged 29, massively sceptical._

She gave a groan when she saw the time; she was meant to clock out at 6pm but it was well on the way to 7 now.

"You should get back to Baker Street," Molly said when she found her fifteen minutes later, still watching the steam rising from the mug. "I called up Mycroft and explained what happened, he can house them somewhere until we figure something out."

"Super," Evelina answered, rubbing at her eyes. 

"What happened in there?" Molly asked as she gingerly sat by her side and laid her own paper pad before her. "Jim took it quite well."

"Jim?" she glanced to Molly before she realised. "Oh, yours is called Jim."

"James, actually," Molly flipped open her notebook. "James Tiberius Kirk, born March 22nd 2225, he'll be 27 next."

"234, actually," Evelina scrunched her nose up a little. "Tiberius huh, what a name."

"He's quite nice, I thought so anyway," Molly was smiling. "He was forthcoming and co-operative and hoped he'd not caused us too much trouble. He said he had a ship."

"A ship?" Evelina perked a little. "Leonard mentioned a ship. Said he and Jim came down here."

Molly's eyes widened a little and an eyebrow raised slightly as her fingers tensed around the edges of her notepad. 

"You don't think they're _aliens_..." Molly looked at Evelina who was now finally drinking the coffee that was now somewhat tepid. "Do you?"

Evelina pondered this for a moment. There was no proof that other life existed on this planet, but it did exist out there and she'd seen it with her own eyes once or twice thanks to being in the right place at the wrong time and befriending a bow tie wearing alien herself. 

"Um..." Evelina gave Molly an unsure look. "Inconclusive data I suppose."

"They look human," Molly said.

‘ _So does the Doctor,_ ’ Evelina thought as she grabbed her notepad and finished up the coffee. ‘ _But he has two hearts_.’

“I think we probably need to speak to them more,” Evelina suggested. “But not tonight."

"Tomorrow?" Molly brightened. 

"Maybe, I'll see," she gave her a smile. "Tom's going to be wondering where you are, you should get home."

Molly followed Evelina out of the lab and down to the area where the lockers were. They stashed their white coats and donned their outerwear, wrapping up warm to greet the cold air outside.

Evelina put her notes into her bag and fastened her coat over the top of it before walking with Molly out of the hospital and out onto the streets.

"No doubt Mycroft will tell Sherlock about all of this," Molly mumbled as they walked to the end of the street.

"Probably," she shrugged a shoulder in answer, her breath escaping in a white cloud as she spoke. "Did you send the samples off to Scotland Yard?"

"They'll be picked up in the morning," Molly gave her a smile as she hailed a cab. "You joining me?"

"Catching the tube," she smiled back. "I like the tube."

"Someone has to," Molly gave a slight laugh and waved goodbye to Evelina as she took off in the cab.


	2. Auxiliary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Auxiliary; providing supplementary or additional help and support.

Evelina felt in her pocket for her Oyster Card and took herself towards the nearest Underground stop as she ran over a plan of action for tomorrow.

At some point she'd have to drop into Scotland Yard to pick up the lab results; she wondered if Lestrade would let her near the crime scene to see if there was anymore sulfur knocking around and if not her, then maybe Sherlock; he liked the weird and the wonderful.

She was roused from her internal thoughts when the tube cars slowed to a stop at the platform and she was jostled into a carriage by a swarm of people; they had the subway in New York but London was dissimilar in the sense that the tube seemed to be more comfortable than the rickety metal carriages of the subway.

Evelina never really cared much for New York anyway.

Along with a small crowd of people, she joined the platform near Baker Street and found her way out of the station before the usual onset of claustrophobia claimed her; if she didn't think about just how far underground she was, she was fine. 

She was always fine until she ended up on the steep escalators and suffered from an acute case of vertigo that left her dizzy on the one side of her head.

A minute was all she needed to recover when she found the fresh air. She crossed the busy street from the tube station and headed down Baker Street until she saw the familiar awning of the Cafe below.

It was just before 8 when she reached the door and jammed the key into the lock. She turned it to the left as far as it would go and threw herself against the dark wood as the brass knocker bounced against the force of her shove as the door finally fell open. 

"Oh it always sticks with the cold, dear," Mrs. Hudson had slid out of her flat to see the commotion and was now smiling warmly at Evelina as she closed the door behind her. "You're late, something happened?"

Evelina made sure she latched the door before she turned around and unbuttoned her coat before hanging it on the peg at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Long evening," Evelina gave Mrs. Hudson a pleasant smile. "Had a lot of...things to sort out."

She chose the word carefully as she twisted her bag strap between her hands and glanced up the stairs. 

"Is he home?" she turned back to Mrs. Hudson with an inquisitive look but the landlady held up her hands and looked away.

"He's been in and out up and down all night like a yo-yo," she placed one hand on her hip and her other to her chest beneath her bathrobe. "I don't know what he's up to, but I wish he'd pack it in."

"I'll sort it," Evelina gave her a small smile before she began scaling the stairs up to the flat. "Goodnight, Mrs. H."

"Goodnight dear," she called after her.

Selecting a second key on the ring she'd used to open the front door, she jammed it into a second lock that lead into her current place of residence. 

With her flat mate nowhere in sight, she peered around the flat before dumping her bag on the table amongst mugs, plates and bits and pieces of scientific equipment. 

Her stomach growled in protest as she looked at the half eaten remains on some of the plates before she crossed to the fridge and pulled it open. 

A second later, the flat door closed and she recognized the sound and gait of the footsteps as they moved further into the room. 

"There are fingers in the fridge," she said in a level voice. "And an...is that an arm in the salad draw?"

"The fingers are in tupperwear boxes like you asked," came the voice of her flatmate from the main part of the room. "And it's not a full arm, just the forearm. Interesting mob tattoo."

"It's still in the salad draw," she answered closing the door. 

"What would you rather I did with it?" he called as she opened a cupboard door. 

"I can give you a long list," she muttered under her breath. 

With a box of cereal in her grasp, she peered around the double kitchen doors and leant against the frame before dipping her hand into it. 

"What have you been doing anyway?" she asked as he looked at something on his desk. "You're driving Mrs. H crazy."

"You left your phone here," he held up a sleek mobile device with a rose printed case covering the back of it as he carried on reading from something on his paper filled desk. "You left it in the draw by your bed which suggests you meant to leave it behind. Could that be because it's been ringing nonsensically all afternoon?"

"You went in my draw?" she said without anger in her voice. 

"Had I not I believe the ringtone would have driven me to near insanity," his eyes found her face and widened before he tossed the device over to her. "I suggest you call Anderson back before he has all of Scotland Yard out on the streets looking for you."

"You looked at the phone log," she said catching it one handed.

"No," he drew out the word as he planted himself in his chair. "You have personalised ringtones which I believe you find quite comical. For instance for The TARDIS you have that Katy Perry song?"

"Oh come on, E.T?," Evelina slumped further into the door frame with a smile. "That's funny."

"Do you find mine equally as comical?" He looked up with a singular raised brow.

"I do," she said stuffing a handful of dried Cheerios into her mouth. "Because no matter the situation I'm in when you call, the accompanying tone is always applicable."

He curled his hand around his phone and touched a singluar tile on his call pad; Evelina was on his speed dial. From her jeans pocket, her phone rang.

_'I'm super, thanks for asking, all things considered I couldn't be better I must say.'_

"See?" she said fishing her phone from her pocket. "Applicable since the only time you call me is when you have a case and that's when you're feeling, shall we say...' _super_ '."

A sardonic smile spread itself across his lips before it fell like a heap of bricks. 

"Not as terrible as Lestrade's," he grumbled as he shuffled through some papers. "Something by The Clash if I'm not mistaken."

"I fought the law and the law won," Evelina sing-songed as she wandered back into the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. "The only one that's not funny is Molly's, its her favourite song. ...What were we talking about again?"

"Personalized ringtones," he reminded her. "You have set ringtones for your closest acquaintances; Lestrade, Molly, The TARDIS and myself. Any other call rings with your current favourite song."

"Do you know what that is?" she slouched on the doorframe again, peering into the glass of water she had triple checking it for floating body parts.

"It fluctuates," he lifted his head, eyes narrowed at an invisible spot on the wall. "Last week it was something moderately acceptable, The Cure I believe. A change suggests you're bored of it which is only fair, with your phone receiving calls from the same person 20 times a day I wonder how you don't do it everyday."

"Could be a cold caller," she suggested.

"You had those numbers blocked," he answered going back to his work. "Therefore it could only be Anderson. Poor you."

He fell quiet for a long moment and Eva let the silence fill the room as she drank the water and grabbed her bag, ready to turn in for the night.

"You were late home," he looked up as she passed by his chair. "Two hours later than usual. Your eyes are heavy suggesting that you are tired, fatigued even. Your shoulders are slumped and though you were partaking in comical conversation, the intone of your voice has a suggestion of annoyance in it."

She stopped and slipped the bag strap onto her shoulder as she looked down at his lanky frame sat in the softened leather chair. His turquoise eyes were slightly narrowed on her, no more blue than they were green and his dark, wayward curls framed his face making his skin look paler than it was.

"Strange night," she answered him. "I think I found myself a case."

"Oh?" he answered, sliding his papers aside with a look of curiosity on his face. "Pray tell."

"Demons," she replied. "Maybe. And perhaps some loopy time travel. Two bodies woke up in the morgue, Mycroft's housing them somewhere for the time being until I can find a minute to speak to them. But I need to see the crime scene; I think I found sulfur under their nails, I want to see if there's traces of it where the bodies were found too."

"Interesting," he gave a slight nod. 

"I want you to come with me," she gave a slight, small smile. "But first I have to go to Scotland Yard to pick up the results from the fingernails. Seemed too much hard work to do it myself."

"I'll have Mrs. Hudson do us a breakfast then," he placed his nimble fingers together and rested his chin atop them. "God knows Scotland Yard don't rush things."

"Goodnight Sherlock," she slid her hand over his head, touching his dark curls delicately. "Try not to make too much noise."

"Remember to call Anderson," he answered her, a small smile forming on his lips she could not see. "Wouldn't want a SWAT team turning up at 4am."

"I'll text him," she gave a slight laugh before she closed her bedroom door behind her and retired for the night.


	3. Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contrast; the state of being strikingly different from something else in juxtaposition or close association.

The following morning, Evelina was up at nine with the smell of a cooked breakfast rousing her from her slumber. She took a quick shower, dried her hair and dressed for the day in jeans and a sleeveless royal blue shirt that fitted snug to her figure. 

When she'd pulled on her boots and finished sorting out her hair, she grabbed her bag and scarf and strolled into the main part of the flat to find Sherlock staring out of the window, dressed in his usual attire with a red, silken bathrobe thrown over the top. 

"Good morning," Evelina greeted him as she slumped into what once was John's chair. 

"Is it?" Sherlock remarked as he turned and threw himself over the back of his worn leather chair and landed perfectly on his backside. 

"So far, yeah," she answered him, draping her scarf over the back of her chair and dumping her bag at her feet as she pulled out the notes she'd taken the previous night.

"Did you speak to Anderson?" he enquired.

"Why is that important?" she glanced up as Mrs. Hudson made her way into the flat with a tea tray containing two brilliantly put together full English breakfasts.

"It's not," a smile pulled at Sherlock's lips as he sat forwards from his chair. "This morning is dull and your situation is entertainment."

"Sherlock, don't be rude," Mrs. Hudson placed the plates on the small side tables beside the chairs along with a pot of tea and two cups. 

"Oh, I can handle him, Mrs. H," Evelina gave their landlady a wink. "Thank you for the breakfast."

"You're welcome dear," Mrs. Hudson rested a hand on Evelina's shoulder with a smile. "You keep an eye on him."

Sherlock scoffed across from them and Mrs. Hudson rolled her eyes before she left them to their breakfast. 

"So," Sherlock had his plate placed precariously on his knee as Evelina did the sensible thing and pulled the small table around to her. "The bodies in the morgue."

"Which ones?" she joked. "There's the one with the missing fingers, the one with the twisted lip..."

"The ones that woke up," Sherlock said between mouthfuls of toast and beans. "Last night."

"I know," she rolled her eyes. "Poor attempt at a joke." 

"Very poor," he said wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "Did you find out anything about them?"

"James T. Kirk and Leonard McCoy," she read from her notes that were perched on the arm of the chair as she ate. "Sorry, Doctor Leonard McCoy."

"Doctor in what?" Sherlock enquired as he cleaned his plate and set it aside. 

"Didn't get that far before he had a reality crisis," she said, still skim reading. "But he's just turned 29 from where he's from."

"From Earth?" he asked.

"Presumably," she replied as she finished her food. "Said he was born in Walnut Grove, Georgia. Looks and sounds like he is too."

"What of his friend, Kirk, did you say?" Sherlock frowned as he sat back and Evelina pulled her notes onto her knee. 

"James T. Kirk, T for Tiberius," she said reading aloud. "Born March 22nd, 2225, he'll be 27 next."

"234, actually," Sherlock quirked a brow, staring at a knick in the kitchen doorframe over Evelina's shoulder. "If what you say is true. You and he share a birthday, co-incidental?"

"Yeah, two hundred and something years apart," she sighed deeply. "So yeah, probably entirely co-incidental. It's what the universe does for fun." 

Or so she'd heard.

"Anything else?" Holmes moved his eyes to her, narrowed and watchful as he folded his hands on his lap. 

"They both mentioned a ship, I get the feeling Kirk said the ship was his, or at least that's how Molly said it," she frowned slightly. "Leonard said he and Jim came down here to see where they were. He mentioned that something happened on the ship but he doesn't remember what."

"Fascinating," Sherlock's eyes gleamed for a moment, his nimble fingers pressing together at the tips. "A space ship and two re-animated bodies."

"You say that like this is news," Evelina bunched her papers up and slid them into her bag. "When you've seen the TARDIS and The Doctor before."

Sherlock shrugged a single shoulder before he rose and slid off his silken robe and pulled on a blazer before fastening the button with one hand. 

"The Doctor is an acquaintance," he said as he straightened out his collar in the mirror.

"Friend," Evelina looked at him in the reflection. "He is a friend."

"Same difference," the detective turned on his heel. "This is a case, something unusual; something almost entirely impossible."

"Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," she looked right at him as she fastened her scarf. "Your famous words, Mr. Holmes. But not from this universe."

"Hm," Sherlock's brow furrowed slightly. "A universe in which the books featuring my exploits exist but I...do...not."

He strolled by her and left the flat, his footsteps echoing from the hollow wooden stairs as he hurried down them. Evelina grabbed her keys and threw her bag across her body before leaving behind him and finding him at the bottom of the stairs with his coat and scarf on and her jacket in his hand. 

"The books are good, I've read them," she said lingering three steps above him that just about put her on eye level with him. "But the real things always better, I just get to be lucky enough to have both."

"Luck," Sherlock held out her jacket before she slid her arms into it and turned to face him, straightening out the collar. "There's no such thing. Nor is there such a thing as fate or chance. Life is governed by decisions that will take you one of two ways..."

"Sherlock," she held up a hand with a smile. "According to the rest of the universe, this universe at least, there's no such thing as vampires or demons or aliens. But you and I both know the Doctor, we've both seen the TARDIS and we've both seen demons. Belief is a funny little thing, Mr. Holmes."

She slid past him and pulled open the front door of 221B before peering out. It was a drab morning and the pavements were damp with rainfall that had fallen in the night. She stepped out and Holmes followed behind, pulling on a pair of leather gloves as he went.

He hailed a cab and turned to Evelina as it pulled up.

"Matter over mind," he said as held the door open for her. "The situation is always more important than the cause."

He slid into the cab beside her and told the driver to head for New Scotland Yard as Evelina studied him and gazed out of the window over his shoulder.

"Good deduction," she nodded. "You're not wrong."

"I rarely ever am," he allowed himself a smug smile as he turned to look out of the window, but Evelina wasn't done.

"Mind over matter," she said. "The cause is always the most important thing, the situation is mostly overlooked."

"I do not overlook the situation," Holmes turned to her with a frown, but she was smiling out of the window.

"I said mostly overlooked," her smile broadened somewhat. "No mind; between us we get the job done."

Sherlock peered at her out of the corner of his eye and settled with his chin nestled in his scarf as the rest of the cab ride passed in silence.


	4. Constabulary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constabulary; a police force covering a particular area or city.

New Scotland Yard was a tall structure with several more floors than it probably needed. Passing the slowly revolving sign outside of its doors, Evelina struggled to keep up with Sherlock's usual pace.

By the time they reached the elevators, she was almost out of breath. Sherlock was close to six foot in height and his thin, pale frame only made him look more so. Evelina was fairly thin herself but not a great deal taller than 5'4. Her head just about reached the detectives shoulders and she often had to crane her neck to look up at him. 

The elevator stopped at the appropriate floor where inspectors and detective inspectors roamed the floor. Phones rang nonsensically and people wandered back and forth with files and papers clasped in their hands. A lingering stench of stale coffee filled the air and as Evelina looked back to Sherlock, he was missing from her side. 

"Evelina!" a familiar voice came from behind her and she turned to find the silver haired detective inspector Lestrade looking back at her with a puzzled sort of amusement on his face. "What you doing here?" 

"Um," she glanced the floor for a moment, looking for the deep blue swooping coat and the curls, but he was nowhere in sight and she sighed. "Came by to pick something up." 

"Lab results," he narrowed his eyes and gestured to her with his Styrofoam cup of coffee. "Come on." 

He began to walk away and with one desperate last look around the office, Evelina reluctantly followed him since Sherlock was nowhere in sight. 

The Detective Inspector led her into his own office, a small, box-shaped room with a potted plant in one corner and a filing cabinet in another whilst his desk sat center to the room. A half eaten donut sat on a square of kitchen towel and he slumped into his chair and laid his arms on the rests. 

"Sherlock with you?" he asked, moving the mouse to wake the computer.

"He was," Evelina shifted uncomfortably. "Not wholly sure where he went."

"He'll turn up," he fired her a smile. "Usually does."

Lestrade was middle aged with deep brown eyes and silver hair that was lighter in some spots more than others. He was also head of his department with a temper that could change at the drop of a hat. 

"You seem surprisingly happy," she trod carefully. 

"All things considered," he eyed her as he looked away from the screen. "Molly sent the report over from Bart's. They were pronounced dead at the scene."

"Well, they weren't in the morgue," she rocked on her heels slightly. "Who issued the paperwork?" 

Lestrade turned back to the computer and typed in a few details before he looked a little anxious and turned back to her. 

"Same person who's got your lab results," he said leaning back in his chair. "Must've pounced on them as soon as they landed in the in tray."

"Who?" she asked even though she had a concrete idea of just who it was.

"Anderson," Lestrade watched her face carefully before he smiled and picked up a case file. "You should answer his calls more."

She gave him a sidelong look and narrowed her eyes, her lips spreading into a thin line before she crossed her arms.

"I forgot to take my phone to Bart's yesterday," she said. 

"Liar," Lestrade gave her a toothy grin. "Don't need Sherlock to solve that one."

"Where is Anderson?" Evelina gave a deep sigh that rose her shoulders almost to her ears. 

"Probably in the lab," he answered her as he skim read the file. "Possibly back at his desk. Surprised he doesn't have a tracker on you."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he has surveillance on Baker Street," she replied. "And not for Sherlock's benefit."

Lestrade gave a laugh and pulled another case file towards him from a pile on his desk as Evelina lingered for a moment.

"Detective Inspector?" she asked before she chewed her lip slightly. 

"I told you, call me Greg," Lestrade looked up from his desk. "What's the matter?"

"If my test results are conclusive to what I'm assuming," she said. "Could I see the crime scene? See if there's anymore of this ...stuff around?"

"There was nothing untoward about the scene," he answered her. "Just two bodies outside the back door of a disused theatre. No sign of foul play."

"There's no signs of struggle or violent wounds either," she said. "No lacerations, breaks or bruises. Nothing clogging the airways, no suggestion of heart attack, trauma or bullet wounds. But they were dead."

Lestrade knew that there were other things amongst this world even if he refused to acknowledge them; he'd seen scratches from werewolves on bodies in the morgue, bite marks from vampires puncturing necks, wrists and thighs but that didn't mean he believed in such things. 

"Just what exactly are you assuming?" he folded his arms on the edge of the desk and looked up at her. "What do you think you found?"

"Sulfur," she answered. "Beneath their fingernails. Sulfur's a telltale sign that demons have been around, the fact that it was found under their nails suggests they were possessed. I'm just curious as to whether there's traces of sulfur at the scene of the crime."

"Demons," Lestrade repeated her. "Sure its not something with big claws and pointy teeth?"

"I'm glad you think this is funny, Detective Inspector," she raised a brow. "Besides, it cant be. Both bodies were this far unharmed. It might even be witchcraft which means I would still want to see the scene for signs of hexbags and magic."

"You've got an hour," he relented with a shake of his head. "I'll see you down there at 12."

"Thank you," she did a sort of half bow half nod before Lestrade waved her out of his office to collect her lab results. 

She closed the door carefully behind her and glanced across the floor again. This time she spotted Sherlock hunched over Higgins' desk with Higgins stood behind him with an irritable look upon his face. 

She barely got four steps away from Lestrade's office to join him when Anderson jumped to her side with a sealed brown A4 envelope in his hands.

"Your results," he beamed her a great big grin and she reclined away from him slightly. "Had them rushed up to the front just for you."

He shoved the envelope towards her and she took it one handed with a very much forced smile as he practically bounced on the balls of his feet. 

"Thanks," she said unsurely. "It was nice of you to process them for me so quickly."

"Anything for you," his eyes darted away from her as he said it but came right back a second later. "You weren't answering your phone yesterday."

"I didn't take it to work with me, completely forgot," she said coolly. "I'd have answered you sooner but I didn't get back until late."

"Oh, did you go out after work?" he asked. "Did you meet someone?"

"Um, well," her eyes darted around for a moment before she looked back to him. "I sort of met someone at the hospital?"

"Is he nice?" Anderson suddenly changed his tune and crossed his arms tight over his chest. "What department is he from?"

"He's insane and he's from the morgue," she stepped back from Anderson and glanced over to Higgins' desk where Sherlock was now stood; it wasn't a total lie. "Gotta go, thanks, again."

She tapped the envelope against the back of her hand and gave Anderson a warm smile that seemed to make him forget to be annoyed with her. His smile broadened and he waved as she hurried across the floor to Holmes and glanced up at him. 

"Trouble in paradise?" he enquired. "Crossed arms, hunched shoulders, you've upset him. Granted it probably doesn't take much. And he's been so nice to you as well. Those results weren't processed this morning; that envelope had been sealed in the past hour, the edge isn't properly stuck down suggesting it was done cack-handedly. Anderson is wearing the same clothes as yesterday, his tie is crooked and he hasn't shaved this morning. I therefore conclude he was here when the specimen arrived for testing, saw your name and stayed the night so the results would be ready for this morning."

Evelina looked from the envelope to Holmes and back again as she turned it over in her hands; the corner wasn't stuck down and her name was scrawled neatly across the front in Anderson's own handwriting. 

"There are times in which I wish you couldn't see everything," she said as they walked towards the elevator. 

"Feeling guilty, are we?" Holmes asked, turning up his coat collar in the elevator.

"Me? No," she gave a smile as she toyed with the unstuck edge of the envelope. "It's just damn annoying you being right all the time." 

A short silence passed before Evelina spoke again.

"Lestrade gave me permission to see the crime scene," she glanced at him with a smile. "He's going to meet us there at 12."

"Us?" Holmes gave a frown and glanced at her with a wrinkled nose. "This is your case."

"Oh, is it?" she mocked offence. "You've been interested since I mentioned it to you, you even came to Scotland Yard with me."

"You asked me to," he answered, stepping out of the elevator. 

"If I asked you to jump off of a bridge, would you do it?" she asked, ramming the envelope into her bag before she realised what she'd said. "Ah, um, bad joke. Sorry."

Sherlock turned on his heel, his coat swirling around him as he walked backwards. A smirk pulled at his lips as he eyed her and turned back around, leaving through the revolving doors as Evelina paused for a moment. 

"Of course," she muttered to herself as she followed after him. "Things that aren't actually funny are hilarious to him."


	5. S

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S; Sulfur or sulphur is a chemical element with symbol S.

In twenty minutes they'd located a coffee place and settled into a far corner with steaming beverages before them to pass the time. Evelina shed her coat and pulled out the envelope Anderson had handed her as Sherlock busied himself with noticing every last little thing about the handful of customers that were occupying the shop. 

Evelina tugged open the envelope and pulled out its innards before she laid them atop the table. Her name was at the top, the specimen and beneath was a long list of things that had been checked for before the specimen was broken down into what it actually contained. 

"Huh," Evelina sat with her chin in her hands studying the numbers and her noise had roused Sherlock from his inner deductions.

"Not what you were hoping for?" he took a sip of his coffee and pulled a face.

"No, it is," she glanced up at him and caught his face before she smiled. "There's sulfur present, more than I thought actually, but there's unknown compounds too. Trace amounts really but its something that the lab can't identify."

"Could that be to do with the demonic presence?" Sherlock enquired. 

"Wouldn't say so," Evelina sat up and covered the sheet with the envelope. "They only really leave behind sulfur and even then that all depends on how bad the demon actually is."

"But if it were dirt, brick dust or plaster," he said. "The lab would identify it. The same with hair, fabrics and skin cells."

"Maybe its something futuristic," she sat back with a half serious expression. "I mean, if they're from where they say they're from, it's not something to rule out."

This time it was Sherlock's turn to be thoughtful and he sank down in his chair with his chin resting in his scarf, lost somewhere in the corridors of his mind palace as Evelina pulled out her notebook and made a few more notes with her findings.

-

By 11:45am, they were on their way to the crime scene; an old, derelict cinema theatre on the backstreets of Soho. Lestrade's Mercedes sat lonely on the curbside as he stood outside the front of the theatre with his hands deep in his overcoat pockets.

"One hour," he reminded her. 

"I hear you," she dismissed his words with a wave of her hand as she looked up at the building. "They were found out back?"

Lestrade led her and Sherlock around the back where a flimsy chain link fence surrounded an area of partially overgrown grass. He nodded to a patch of gravelly earth and Evelina slunk through the chain link gate and headed in that general direction.

She knelt in the dirt and saw the pale yellow powder right away. Behind her, Sherlock rooted in his pocket for his scientific magnifying glass before he crouched by her and inspected it for himself. 

It was smeared onto the brick work and scattered across the floor. There wasn't a great deal of it which told Evelina the demons that had gotten the bodies weren't all that much to worry about, but they were still demons. 

"Definitely demons?" Sherlock turned to her in his still crouched form, his magnifier hanging between his fingers.

"Definitely demons," she repeated with a nod. "There's no blood which is conclusive with the morgue report; they sustained no injuries. There's no marks in the dirt that suggest sign of struggle, there's... nothing." 

"There is never nothing," Sherlock rose back to his full six foot and took a stroll down the length of the wall as Evelina looked back to Lestrade.

"I told you," he said, hands still in pockets. "Nothing untoward. If there was, it'd be cordoned off." 

"Did you find anything on the bodies?" she asked with a frown. "Money, phone, anything?"

"We took a few things off of them," Lestrade frowned as he remembered. "They're in evidence."

"Can I see them?" she asked. "It might help."

"I'll have them sent over to Baker Street," he glanced back to her. 

"Thank you," she gave him an appreciative smile; that had to be breaking at least ten rules and three laws. "I really do appreciate it."

"I know," he gave a terse nod. "One hour."

She gave him a playful scowl as Sherlock called her name and they both looked over to where he stood by a door that was ajar.

"Did you look inside?" Evelina turned back to the silver haired detective. 

"No," he answered. "Thought the whole place was boarded up top to bottom."

They'd strolled over to Sherlock who stood with one hand curled around the edge of the door; he'd forced it open himself.

"The door jutted out at the bottom, swollen from the cold I imagine," he started. "There's scuffs in the paintwork where a foot has tried to kick it into place, the metal is warped where a shoulder has tried to barge it closed. Evidently this worked for the top half of the door but not the bottom and with the right amount of leverage, the door is easily popped open with the lock picked first, of course."

"Of course," Evelina and Lestrade chorused in the same tone of voice causing them to give one another a puzzled look. 

"Someone has been inside recently," Holmes looked between them. "Within the past two days."

"Not yesterday?" Evelina asked.

"No," Sherlock crouched at the bottom of the door and motioned for her to follow as he passed her the magnifier. "Look at the chipped paint on the metal. The edges aren't jagged, they're smoothed, the rain from last night washed the loosened paint from the metal and it rained from 2pm yesterday all through the night."

"The bodies were found yesterday afternoon," Lestrade said as Evelina looked at the paint. 

"Someone is staying away, Detective Inspector," Holmes rose to full height. "A creature of habit dwells here; the foot kicks the same part of the door over and over again, the shoulder dents the same mark. It is routine." 

"They'd have seen the police here," Evelina stood up too and handed Holmes his kit back. 

"They?" Lestrade frowned.

"Figure of speech," Evelina shrugged one shoulder. "Can we go in?"

She routed around her bag and produced a small flash light and didn't even wait for Greg to say yes before she wandered through the door into the establishment. 

The door led immediately onto a small, raised stage in front of a torn cinema screen. The torch beam bounced over dusty, velvet covered theatre seats, some broken and some still in tact. Wallpaper hung limp from the walls, yellowed and molded with age.

Behind her, Sherlock and Lestrade stepped into the disused theatre and the door cast a line of light across the stage and caught the edge of a rectangular figure in the middle of the stage. Evelina aimed the torch in that direction and approached it.

Candle wax splattered the floor as she shone the torch at her feet. She crouched to gain a closer look before she noticed something else. Her hand closed around a sprig of some dried herb and when she crushed it between her fingers and smelt it, she smelt lavender. 

Casting it aside, she rose and shone the torch at the table top. Melted altar candles sat in set points on the surface, their oozing trickles set in mid air as they tried to leave the table. Her hand wiped the top of the table and with a layer of dust came something else.

Rubbing it between her fingers she found that it was chalk.

"I want you to board this place up and get it locked down," she turned to Lestrade as she led them back outside. "No one goes in or out of here, ever."

"Why not?" Lestrade said as they reached his car. "It's just a theatre."

Evelina scratched her nose and smelt lavender before she attempted to wipe the smell away on the leg of her jeans. 

"Someone has been summoning something in there," she looked at the detective inspector levelly. "And I don't know what."

"Not demons?" Sherlock said.

"I'm not sure," she said honestly. "Could be. But it could be angels or reapers or spirits. The candles on the table were arranged in a very specific way and lavender is used in most summoning rituals. Without the symbol that the candles sit in, I don't know what we're dealing with, I need to look some symbols up. But demons have been here."

"But none of this explains how the John Doe's ended up how they ended up," Lestrades brow was more than furrowed as he looked at the pavement. 

"One thing at a time," she gave him a brief smile. "I want to look at the stuff you took off of them, test for sulfur and anything else that seems interesting."

"Right well, like I said, I'll have it sent over," Lestrade gave Evelina a look over along with a nod. "Keep me posted."

"Promise I will, Greg," she returned his nod as he got into the car and she and Sherlock walked in the opposing direction.

"Greg?" he frowned.

"That's his name," she answered him.

"Is it?" his frown grew as puzzlement found its way into his expression. 

"Honestly," Evelina shook her head. "Although, you did think the sun went around the Earth..."

"That's not important," he said turning up his coat collar as he walked.


	6. Evidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evidence; the available body of facts or information indicating whether a belief or proposition is true or valid.

That evening the wind howled and the rain came down. A single lamp lit the living space of 221B but all focus was in the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson had kindly tided away the used places and mugs and wiped down all the sides and Evelina made a mental note to herself to thank her when she next saw her. 

A handful of police evidence bags sat tidily on the table beside Sherlock's microscope and as they both sat at the table facing one another, Sherlock slid one over the table to her. 

He was settled in his shirt, trousers and silk red robe and Evelina sat in lounge pajamas that consisted of a long sleeved violet top and a soft, lilac bottoms that shrouded her feet. The only sounds came from the rain lashing against the high windows in the living space and the gentle hum of the fluorescent light hanging over the table. 

The entryway into the kitchen from the landing was closed and locked and Sherlock had even latched the main door into the living space; no distractions or disruptions. Evelina had her notebook open to two clean pages with her pen sitting in the spine and Sherlock had an array of chemicals and slides at his disposal. 

She unzipped the bag Sherlock had passed to her and produced a sizeable rectangular device; it really wasn't too much smaller than the middle of her palm. There was a shape carved into the front of it which she recognized from the shirts of the John Does, and in the center towards the top was a transparent circle.

"A mobile device?" Sherlock suggested as he glanced over to her. "An older model perhaps, it's quite small. Flip phones were renowned for their small size."

Evelina could see where he was coming from, it did look an awful lot like an old Motorola phone she used to have herself, but it felt too light to be a cell phone. She eyed it carefully as Sherlock held the twin of it in his own large palm.

"They had one each which leads me to believe that it is some form of communication device," he said. "The report says that they were attached to a belt around their waists. Perhaps a utility belt?"

"I don't think they're window cleaners Mr. Holmes," Evelina gave a hint of a smile as she ran a fingertip around the small rectangle. "Or custodians."

The device did indeed flip open as Evelina jammed a fingernail into a join. The black casing flipped back on a hinge leaving the device silver in her palm. The once transparent circle in the top glowed an avid blue and the device chirped before sounding a soft crackle of white noise. 

"Huh," she remarked. "Pocket radio? There's no tuner though."

She flipped the device closed and the blue glow went out before she cast it aside and reached out for a second bag but Sherlock moved them from her grasp.

"You had your turn," he raised a brow but a smile pulled the corner of his mouth up. 

His hand was already coiled around a second evidence bag and what he produced from it looked like a gun. 

"Metal, no bullets," he observed. "Laser fire, dual barrel. Suggests that it has two modes; one of which I have no doubt is to kill. Sleek, light to hold and ergonomically designed for a one hand hold. Most definitely a weapon; shall we fire it?" 

He aimed the weapon at Evelina who didn't flinch one inch from the table. She stared at the point as Sherlock's finger rested comfortably on what he assumed was the trigger. 

"No, let's not," she reached out and gently pushed the weapon down to the table as the detective looked a little disappointed. "The wall in the living room has practically had enough between your bored bullet holes and the yellow spray paint. Besides, if you cause anymore damage to it, Mrs. H will probably have you hung, drawn and quartered." 

"Don't be ridiculous," Holmes crinkled his nose. "Hanged, yes. And besides, all of the above were abolished in 1870."

"You're so lucky I'm not holding that thing," she gestured to the sleek weapon still in Holmes' right hand as it rested now on the table. "Pass me that one."

Sherlock passed her over the evidence bag she'd nodded to before he cast aside the weapon carefully. He watched Evelina open the bag with care and produce a small, leather looking pouch. It was a firm, square shape with a clasp at the front and Evelina finally pried it open after a short struggle.

The box structure came apart, opening up like the net of a cube. Vials of different coloured liquids were firmly held in place by elastic eyelets and where the edges of the pouch folded in sat two twin objects that looked like syringes without the needles on the end.

“Theories?” Holmes asked.

“I’m not the Consulting Detective,” she said, not removing her eyes from the open pouch. “I don’t work on theory.”

“You work on assumption,” he said. “Things that are accepted as true or certain to happen, without proof.” 

“I’m not of the logical mind like you,” her eyes lifted from the pouch and met his across the table. “Then again, if I was, you wouldn’t be the worlds only Consulting Detective.”

“Theories,” his eyes dropped back to the pouch. “Tell me.”

“Sherlock,” she almost glowered at him before she forgave him for his pressing ways.

“Then tell me what you assume it to be,” he lifted his eyes to hers. “Not what it does.”

She ran her fingers over the vials, each one a striking different colour. Cobalt blue, neon orange, lime green, before she pulled out one of the syringe like objects. It was cool and smooth and made surprisingly of metal with a level gauge on one side and a button on top. 

“Well, if I had to guess,” she sighed as she turned the object over in her hands. “Some kind of futuristic medication? McCoy is a doctor, this was taken from his belt according to the report. I mean, this looks like a syringe, but it’s missing the hypodermic needle.”

Sherlock had his fingers pressed together, his cerulean eyes narrowed as a smile played about his lips.

“Now, based on your assumptions,” he leant a little further forwards. “Tell me what it does.”

“No,” she put the object down. “Sherlock, I’m not John. I don’t mind helping out on the odd case, but I am not a detective. I am fascinated by your methods, I enjoy learning some of them even if only by accident, but I am not John.”

A flicker of annoyance passed over Holmes’ face, but he understood. Evelina wasn’t here to be his partner for solving crimes. True, they were two specialists, but Evelina mostly just lived in Baker Street and leant the occasional hand to Holmes when she could and he’d repay her the same way like he was now. 

“No, you’re not,” he finally said. “But perhaps in due time you and I could bring together our talents; The Consulting Supernaturalists of Baker Street.”

“It has got a ring to it, I won’t lie,” she finally managed a smile. “Seems we have a fair bit to teach one another, Mr. Holmes.”

He gave a terse nod and reached for the last evidence bag as Evelina started running sulfur tests on the handle of the weapon and the backs of the small rectangular devices.

The rain still lashed against the windows and the wind still howled down the chimney, but nothing felt more homely and more comfortable to Evelina than sitting in her pajamas at the kitchen table in Baker Street running tests on police evidence.


	7. Unrequited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unrequited; (of a feeling, especially love) not returned.

When morning came around, Sherlock was nowhere in sight. His coat and scarf were missing, his phone absent from its usual spot on the table. He often had cases running in the background, usually smaller, insignificant ones that weren't worth his time, but Evelina convinced him to take them; at least they were something to occupy his brain. 

She fixed herself a coffee and let her eyes roam the evidence bags still left on the table. Traces of sulfur had been found on all the objects, most of it found on the handle and assumed trigger of the two weapons, but there was no kind of residue to suggest they'd been fired.

Once she'd done with her coffee, she dressed for a day of work. In the afternoon she was heading back over to St. Bart's to conduct some tests on the John Does with Molly's help; nothing too terrible, just blood pressure, blood tests and a general check up.

Along with holy water, silver blade and salt; just a general check up. 

She wrapped herself up in a tan, knee length trench coat and knotted the belt around her waist before tucking a leopard print scarf into her collar and grabbing her bag. She left a note for Holmes in case he came back before her stating she'd possibly be home late due to working at Bart's, before she gathered the evidence bags, tossed them all into a bigger bag and set out of 221B, saying goodbye to Mrs. Hudson on the way.

It was a chilly morning with a low, blinding sun and instead of freezing her bones in the Underground stations, she opted for a cab ride over to New Scotland Yard. Paying the driver, she hopped out at her destination and hurried inside out of the chill. 

The elevator chimed at the right floor and when Evelina stepped out, the floor was in its usual buzz of people roaming around and telephones ringing. Lestrade was nowhere in sight but Higgins was at his desk. 

She strolled over and leant on the edge of his cubicle, giving him a warm smile. Higgins was slim, tall and usually chipper. He was handsome enough with yellow-gold eyes and a cropped, light brown hair cut. 

"D.I around?" Evelina asked him when he returned her smile. 

"Office," he informed her. "Not often you see the shadow free from its subject."

"I'm not Holmes' shadow," she sighed with a grin. "For one, I'm not nearly tall enough."

"Where is he?" he asked, swiveling his chair around to face her and folding his hands on his stomach. 

"Not a clue," she gave a shrug. 

"You might want to make a run for Greg's office," Higgins' eyes left her face and peered behind her. "Romeos on his way. And by the way, you look _great_ today."

"I'm going to work," she gave him a wink. "But thanks."

He gave her a nod and a smile as she slunk away from his desk, weaving through the cubicles to avoid Anderson at all costs. She made it to Lestrade's office without a confrontation and as she closed the door behind her, Greg sat up in his seat and looked her over.

"You due a meeting?" he gestured to her attire with a joking smile. "Not that you don't look good..."

"I'm at Bart's this afternoon," she answered him. "I have clearance to run tests on the John Does, Molly's going to help out too."

"Oh," Greg looked pleasantly surprised. "Sherlock not with you?"

"Nope," she placed the bag with the evidence bags in onto his desk. "But we're done with these."

"Find anything interesting?" he asked, placing the bag beneath the table. "Or what they actually might be?"

"Sherlock has theories that one is a communications device and another is a weapon," she informed him. "The little square one I think has something to do with medical reasons; it was taken from McCoy and he's a doctor. The big rectangular one, no idea. But we did find sulfur on all of them, most of it on the item Sherlock assumes to be a weapon."

"You think it was used?" Lestrade clasped his hands on the table. "There were no bullet wounds or anything to suggest a weapon was fired."

"No way of knowing unfortunately," she gave a half hearted shrug. "It doesn't use bullets, so no gun shot residue. I'll keep you posted on the John Does, Molly and I will send over copies of our reports later."

"Good," Lestrade gave a nod. "Have a good afternoon."

"I'll try," she gave him a nod, a smile and departed his office, back into the hubbub of the busy floor. 

She made it ten paces before Anderson came to her side, walking in step with her as she crossed the floor. She saw Higgins still sitting at his desk at the very back of the room and he gestured for her to come over when he saw Anderson by her side.

"Going anywhere nice?" Anderson asked as he gave her a fleeting look. "You seem all dressed up."

"I have a job at Bart's, remember?" she said without looking at him. "Morgue technician; means I get to wear a white coat over whatever the hell I please."

"Oh, you're going to Bart's," he very almost sneered. "Back to the morgue with the... technicians." 

She let the comment hang in the air before he spoke again.

"Would you like to come to dinner with me this weekend, Evelina?" he asked. "I know a nice place."

"I can't," she said, sinking her hands into her coat pockets as they drew closer to Higgins' desk. "I have a case to work and it's pretty much paramount that it's cleared up as fast as possible."

"Perhaps I could help," Anderson said as he frowned in confusion as to why they'd stopped by Higgins' desk. "I could bump up any tests you need doing."

"She's got all the help she needs," Higgins stood and towered a good foot over Evelina with his shirt sleeves rolled up. "Speaking of help, here."

He handed her a wad of brown envelopes and a handful of evidence bags in different sizes which she folded up and placed into her bag, thanking him with a smile.

"Anything you want processing, anything important," he stressed. "Call my desk phone, tell me its coming in, I'll get on it straight away."

Higgins, for all intents and purposes, wasn't just a desk hermit. He had a side job of forensics much like Anderson had, but more often than not Higgins found himself behind his desk rather than in the field. 

"Thanks Higgins," she reached her hand out to his arm and squeezed it gently and if Anderson could have turned green with envy, he would have. "I have to get to Bart's."

"Busy day?" Higgins asked as Anderson continued to linger. 

"Hot date with two dead guys," she gave a shrug. "Busy-ish."

"So I can't take you for a drink after?" Higgins asked.

She knew he was only winding Anderson up but she appreciated the effort he was putting into the situation. 

"Would that I could," she shrugged. "But I can't. Another time maybe?"

"Another time for dinner?" Anderson cut in. "If you can promise him a drink another time..."

"Maybe," she said firmly. "This case is huge and I have really, really got to get to Bart's."

"Have a nice afternoon," Higgins leant down and planted a kiss on her cheek and let his hand trail down her opposing arm. "Catch you later."

"Probably," she answered, suppressing giggles that were forming in her chest. "Bye, Anderson."

He gave a nod and strutted away from Higgins' desk as she walked in the opposing direction. She peered over her shoulder at the elevator and Higgins was grinning at her. He threw her a wink and she blew him a mock kiss before riding the elevator down to the lobby and hailing a cab outside to take her to Bart's.


	8. Peruse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peruse; examine carefully or at length.

"They're not here yet," Molly chimed as Evelina pushed open the double doors with her shoulder into the lab. "They're on their way though, Mycroft called."

"Glad to know I didn't rush for nothing," she answered. "I brought you a sandwich and a coffee."

Her hands were full and food was balanced on top of the Styrofoam cups. Molly took them off of her and placed them on one of the work surfaces as Evelina pulled off her scarf and coat. 

"Thank you," Molly smiled. "You didn't have to."

"Well, I figured we might be here a while," Evelina shrugged one shoulder. "Depends how co-operative they want to be."

"Suppose," Molly took a sip of the coffee as Evelina hung up her coat and scarf on the hat stand by the door and traded them for a white lab coat. "How was your night last night?"

"Decent," Evelina shrugged. "Sherlock and I went over the evidence from the crime scene, some objects that were taken from the bodies. Sulfur on everything."

"So definitely demons?" Molly asked as she perched on a stool and watched Evelina pull some things from her bag. 

"In the case of the two John Does, yeah," she pulled out three books and a notepad. "I'd say so."

"You say that like there's more to it," Molly's brown eyes narrowed in puzzlement. "Is there more to it?"

Evelina pulled out a small flask containing holy water and a leather pouch holding several vials of salt, a silver knife and a demon killing blade. 

"The crime scene was an old theatre, the cinema ones, not ones for shows," Evelina crossed back to the hat stand and hung up her bag with her coat. "On the little stage in front of the screen I found a table with five altar candles melted onto it standing in specific places. There was evidence that there'd been a chalk outline too, but I'm not sure if that was evidence of a demon summoning; there was no trap on the floor."

"Should there be?" Molly inquired. 

"Yeah," Evelina snorted a small laugh and apologized. "I mean, you summon a huge nasty demon, you don't just let it run amuck. Chances are when it gets here, it's gonna be unhappy. You'd need a trap to keep it contained until you talk it around."

"So what could have been summoned?" Molly took another sip of coffee.

"Anything really," Evelina answered. "Angels or spirits seems most likely without the trap. But without the mark the candles sat in, I don't really have any idea."

Molly's brow fell into a frown as Evelina sorted out her things. A moment later the double doors opened and their two John Does were led in by a suited man.

"Mr. Holmes sends his regards that he couldn't bring them by himself," the suited man spoke. 

"Tell him I said thank you," Evelina didn't bother to look up from her notebook. 

The man bowed his head and gestured for the other two to walk further into the room before he left them in the company of the two women.

Molly jumped up and greeted the blonde and the brunette before showing them to two gurneys that had been wheeled up from the morgue. All the lights in the lab were on, most of the equipment was out and as they each gingerly sat on a gurney each, Evelina lifted her eyes from her work and caught those of the brunette who was giving her a guarded look, hidden beneath his seemingly perpetual frown.

She quickly looked back to her work before collecting her notebook and other small items and moving a workspace closer to the gurneys. 

"I don't think we met properly," the blonde spoke as she turned and found him stood uncomfortably close to her. "I'm Jim, Jim Kirk."

"Evelina," she gave him a hesitant smile as Molly introduced herself properly to the brunette. "Evelina Clarke." 

"Pretty name," Kirk gave a lopsided grin and a side long look. 

She sent him away to sit back on his gurney and consulted her notes that Molly had given her about him as Molly joined her side. 

"Are we sticking to what we had before?" she asked. "You and Leonard and me and Kirk?"

"Sure," Evelina gave a nod as she caught Leonard's expression again. "Nothing I can't handle I'm sure."

"Then I'll get to work," Molly gave her a smile and moved Kirk to the opposite end of the lab; there was to be no conferring between them, no spun stories. 

The lab was vast and Evelina couldn't hear Molly and Kirk as they spoke so she assumed that they couldn't hear her when she spoke to Leonard either. She drew a stool up to the gurney and laid her notebook and other items beside him. 

"I'm sorry," he apologized as she sat down. "For yellin'. It ain't your fault."

"Calmed down have we, Mr. McCoy?" she dared to look at his face and only met a perturbed expression. "Gotten to grips with the drab and dreary?"

"You weren't exactly all sunshine and daisies either," he raised a brow. "Your bedside manners appallin', doctor."

"Doctor?" she asked with a frown, flipping to a clean page in her notebook. "What makes you think I'm a doctor?"

"You're a pathologist?" he said with an intone of a question.

"No," she drew out the word with a smile as she reached for the leather pouch. "Not even close, Mr. McCoy."

"Leonard," he corrected her. "Call me Leonard, Mr. McCoy makes me sound old."

"You are," she reminded him as she flipped open the leather pouch. "You're 237 years old. Give me your hand."

When Leonard saw the blade in the pouch he jumped back with a yell making Molly and Kirk look over from where they were sat. Molly had the stethoscope in her ears listening to Jim's heart and she frowned at Evelina.

"What the hell are you doin' with a knife!" It was more a loud statement than a curious question and he shuffled away from her to the opposite side of the gurney. 

"It's made of silver," she informed him. "I need to knick you with it, see if you have an adverse reaction."

"I ain't allergic to silver," he said. "You could just ask."

"Doesn't work that way in my line of work," she said. "It won't hurt, promise."

Leonard looked to Kirk before he looked to the woman in front of him and rolled up the sleeve of a shirt he'd been given by whoever seemed to be looking after them. Her hands delicately held his forearm which surprised him before she grabbed the silver blade and slid it across the top of his arm. 

It was nothing more than a sting and when nothing happened, she made a quick note in her notepad and dabbed at the wound she'd caused gently. 

"See?" she said. "It was nothing."

"I coulda told you nothin' woulda happened," he grouched with a poisonous tone in his voice. 

She grabbed the small flask and deliberately spilled it over the non-cut part of his arm, but once more nothing happened. Going for all three, she took a handful of salt and rubbed it into his palm.

"You preparin' me for dinner or somethin'?" he asked looking at his hand and damp arm, his brow frowning even more than Evelina thought was possible. 

"Sorry," she said. "Routine check for someone in your situation."

"The hell it is," he grunted, yet he let her continue. "So, Evelina, right?"

"Yep," she gave a nod as she stopped his wound bleeding and wrapped a bandage around it. 

"Not Eve?" he asked. "Or Eva? Or Evie?"

"Sometimes people call me Eve," she gave a smile, fond and gentle. "Ultimately, it's Evelina unless you want to get punched; most people don't. Don't people call you Len? Or even Leo?"

"My ex-wife called me Len, hate it," he said bluntly as he looked at the opposing wall. "Never been called Leo. Jim calls me Bones."

"Bones?" she frowned up at him as she took his pulse, deciding not to even pop open the can of worms about his ex-wife. 

"Don't ask," he shook his head and sat still. "You know, I can tell you I'm perfectly fine, I am a doctor."

"I know," she said. "But you're not a doctor in this century. I guess this is kind of medieval to you." 

"Somethin' like that," he said. 

"Molly will take the rest of your vitals," she said making a note of his pulse rate. "I'm going to go and give Jim the same routine check and then I have some questions for you both while Molly sorts out the blood samples and other various things."

"More questions?" his shoulders sagged slightly. "I just wanna go home."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely; she'd risen from the stool and now sat back down on it. "I need to find out how you got here and what happened to you. You still don't remember?"

"I told you," Leonard met her eyes, a scowl residing in their depths. "Jim and I came down to take a look, next thing, we're in your morgue. I wish I could tell you more if it got me home."

She felt a growing sense of resentment from the man before her but she let it wash over her as he looked away and sighed deeply. She figured she'd probably want to go home too if she wound up like he did. 

Wound up stuck where she didn't want to be. 

"Well, thanks anyway," she rose again and collected her pouch and notebook. "Leonard."

He watched as she left his side, moving to the work spaces until Molly had finished with Jim so she could take her space. His arm had been wrapped up neatly and gently, much more carefully than he'd anticipated and just for a mere moment, his frown broke and he glanced over to Jim who's eyes were firmly on Evelina as she placed herself before him.


	9. King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King ( _verb_ ); act in an unpleasantly superior and domineering way.

They co-operated efficiently enough for both Molly and Evelina to get what they wanted from them, but when it came to questioning, neither could remember anything.

They couldn't remember prior to or post landing and that troubled Evelina something fierce. Could something from their time stream have gotten them and brought them to 2014 or was it just a mere coincidence?

When the interrogations were over, Evelina left the lab straight away with something ticking on her mind. She said goodnight to Molly, but didn't bother with the other two, grabbed her coat and rushed from Bart's into a cab and back to Baker Street.

She ran up the stairs to 221B and found it empty which was what she'd been hoping for. She tore open cupboards where she kept her own supplies, grabbed a bowl and unsheathed her silver blade before she shoved aside the coffee table and pulled back the rug to reveal a devils trap painted on the floor. 

Using the coffee table she lit her altar candles on the right sigil, crushed up her herbs and cut her palm, reciting a summoning spell for one specific demon indeed. When he found himself encased in the expertly drawn trap, he looked a lot less than happy. 

Evelina's bleeding palm spotted blood onto the floor as she looked at him. Her coat half hung from her body, her hair plastered to her face where the wind and rain had got at it when she'd jumped from the cab.

"You're going to ruin the carpet," the demon threw his hands into his pockets and gestured to her bleeding hand as he rocked gently on his heels. 

"What the hell are you playing at Crowley," she growled. "What the hell have you done!"

"Usually, it's whatever I damn well like, love," he gave her a sneering smile. "But this time, and I promise you, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Save it," she clenched her fists and the drip of blood turned almost into a slow trickle. "You know this is wrong! You can't toy with the vortex, you cant go back or forwards to take people as you please!"

"Oh, that old chestnut," he rocked on his heels some more. "Quite darling that you think it has something to do with me. Quite flattered you think I could achieve such a thing. Course, they have been chatting about it on the other side."

"You are the King of Hell," she retorted. "Who the hell else could I blame?"

"Just because I know what's going on," he strutted to the very edge of the trap to glare at her. "Doesn't mean I have anything to bloody do with it!"

Evelina raised an unconvinced brow; her hand had started to sting and the unpleasant warmth and stickiness of the blood congealing in her palm was making her stomach uneasy.

"I didn't do it!" Crowley yelled.

"Then who did!" she yelled back.

"I don't bloody know!" the demons cheeks had reddened and he paced unhappily across the center of the trap. "But I do know the demons that were summoned weren't meant for the bodies you're becoming chummy with."

"What do you mean by that?" she was interested now. "That they weren't meant for their bodies?"

"I mean exactly what I said," he answered, pacing back to her. "Demons need vessels in order to survive, the bodies of your new friends aren't right; the demons can't survive inside. Afraid your boys were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"They're not my boys," Evelina said dismissively. "You're saying its purely coincidental?"

"I'm saying they were supposed to be summoned into bodies," he said. "Evidentially, they got the wrong bodies. The bodies they were supposed to be summoned to would have been close by, but demons are such eager little things; they'll take anything."

Evelina mulled this over for a moment or so as Crowley became even more irate. Someone had been summoning something in the theatre and it was looking more and more like what was being summoned was demons.

"Assuming I believe you," she said crossing her arms with her palm folded in on itself to stem the bleeding. "And that is a big assumption, why wouldn't the demons have known they were different?"

"All you humans look alike, we don't have a special bloody radar," Crowley grumbled. "We don't sense things until we're in our new home. By the time those poor buggers got into your boys, it was too late to flee. Now will you let me go?"

"Fine, okay," she said sharply as she chipped the paint of the trap, breaking the outline. "I appreciate the info."

Crowley stepped over the line once it was broken and pleasantly stood before her. They'd had run ins in the past but they were never too terrible.

"Even if I did know who it was that's done this, which I don't," Crowley straightened up his exquisite looking tie. "I wouldn't bloody well tell you. You'd go and pop their brains out with salt rounds."

"Damn straight I would," she gave him a challenging look. "Get the hell out of here."

In the blink of an eye, Crowley was gone and Evelina was left to ponder her new information.


	10. Divination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Divination; the practice of seeking knowledge of the future or the unknown by supernatural means.

The center of London was rarely ever still; the Eye still turned, lit up like an electric rainbow, the Thames still flowed with its current lapping gently at the shore and taxis to'd and fro'd about taking out and taking home their customers for the night. 

On the South Bank a little up from the Millennium Bridge, a pair of cobalt blue eyes idly watched the lapping waves before moving to stare at St. Paul's across the way. A little further down sat the Tower of London and Tower Bridge was lit up like a beacon. 

No one was around South Bank to see the figure, not that they would have missed him if they were, but who was milling around South Bank at three in the morning? 

A light breeze tousled his golden hair that was woven with slices of raven black and pulled relentlessly at the aqua blazer that was rolled up to his elbows, showing off the bright and blinding canary yellow lining. 

A stiff collared white shirt sat beneath a deep navy jumper and a mass of chains and rosaries adorned his neck but sat neatly under the collar. His feet were warm and comfortable in a pair of battered tan brogues with fraying laces, his legs covered with faded black jeans with flat studs around their pockets and on the belt loops that held a sadly normal looking belt. 

His long legs were drawn up with his heels dug into the bank, his hands splayed out behind him. With his sleeves drawn up, the skin of his left arm was exposed to show off tattooed markings of tiger stripes that reached as far as his knuckles. 

His blue eyes traveled up the Thames towards the eye, before coming back down to rest on Tower Bridge. The night was still young and there was much more he could do; being High Warlock of all London, there wasn't really much he couldn't do. 

He pulled himself up, dusting the sand from his exquisite outfit and pondered his choices. He drew his hands close together, but they didn't touch. As he mulled over his options, lilac sparks danced from fingertip to fingertip and as he reached a decision and smiled a wicked smile, he snapped his fingers, extinguished the sparks and took off for the Eye.


	11. Result

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Result; a thing that is caused or produced by something else; a consequence or outcome.

"You're awake," Holmes remarked when Evelina emerged from her room the following morning. "You have 7 messages on your phone."

"Mhm," she grumbled, throwing herself into the chair opposite Holmes in the living area. 

She didn't bother to pick up her phone, but she did draw her knees up under her chin and give a yawn. It'd been a restless night and she hadn't tended to her hand well; it was a tender, furiously red slash across her palm and it hurt to clasp a fist. 

"Something happen?" Holmes glanced over to her as he looked up from his own phone.

"Mhm," she grunted and got up, hissing through her teeth as she stood through the aid of her palms on the arms of the chair. 

Holmes watched her carefully as she retrieved her phone and sat back down. She scrolled through the messages. 

'Anderson, Anderson, Anderson, TARDIS, Anderson, Molly, Higgins'

"The carpets crooked and there's a lingering smell of lavender and hot wax," Holmes said without looking at her. "Your palm is sore indicating a laceration of some sorts; blood is used for a summoning spell and since the carpets crooked and I know what's beneath it, I deduce you summoned something here last night."

"Crowley," she muttered. "Out of curiosity."

"Did it pay?" he questioned, slightly irritated.

"Yep," she answered briskly. "I gotta get ready, I'm wanted at Scotland Yard."

Holmes was already dressed with his silk dressing gown slung over his attire. He watched as Evelina slunk past him, her face yet to show an expression that wasn't irked. It'd be unfortunate to let her loose in New Scotland Yard in such a foul mood and as her door closed behind her, Holmes stood and pulled off his silk dressing gown.

By the time she was dressed, Holmes had his coat, gloves and scarf on and waited by the main door at the bottom of the stairs with Evelina's coat held up for her to slide into. She slid her arms into it and turned to him with a questionable glance.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere alone," he said. "Not with a face like that."

"Considerate," she mumbled. 

"Something the matter?" he asked as he held the door open for her. 

"Gold star for you," she said sardonically before turning around and sighing deeply. "Sorry, it's just...this whole thing isn't as easy as I thought it'd be."

"Nothing ever is," he answered, following after her as she hailed a cab. "Care to elaborate?"

"Crowley said the John Does were possessed accidentally," she said. "That the demons were meant for two other bodies that would have been near by."

"The summoning in the theatre," Holmes said. "Wrong place, wrong time."

"Yeah, but that's not case solved," she said a little irritably. "Who's summoning the demons? Are they going to try again? Are there other demons? And just how in the hell are the two John Does going to get back to 2251? This assuming that they actually are from 2251 although I can't think of a way to prove that."

"I can think of a way..." Holmes pointed out but Evelina held up her hand.

"No," she said firmly. "He brought me here on the grounds that I can take care of myself. I hate calling him for every last thing. Besides, he has enough to handle with the riddles of the girl twice dead without me making him universe jump."

Holmes' eyes narrowed ever so slightly as the cab pulled up outside New Scotland Yard and he watched Evelina slope out of the cab and groan up at the building; Anderson wasn't what she wanted to be dealing with this morning. 

"I have something to discuss with Lestrade," Sherlock informed her as they rode the elevator up to the right floor. "I will meet you by the elevator when I'm done."

"I have to see Higgins," she said. "You go home, or do whatever you're going to do. I'm going to see your brother at the Diogenes; I wanna talk to the John Does as people, not subjects."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure," she nodded.

"Good luck with Mycroft," Sherlock called as he strolled ahead when the lift doors opened. "And more importantly, Anderson." 

She slouched out of the lift after him and gazed across the floor to where Anderson had already spotted her. Her hair was pinned up and she was dressed smartly for her visit to the Diogenes Club and Anderson was giving her the biggest smile which she couldn't be bothered to return. 

Before he even reached her, Higgins gently took her arm and led her away as she frowned up at him. He gave her a wink and she relaxed a little as they headed down a corridor and into a small lab space much like the one she worked in at Bart's.

"Where's the fire?" she asked, dumping her bag on a stool. 

"Nowhere," he gave her a warm smile as he closed the lab door behind him; it was just the two of them. "But Anderson was on his way over and you don't look to be in a people mood."

"I'm not," she said honestly. 

"You might be in less of one after this," he slid an envelope across the table to her and sat facing her. "The blood results from the specimens you sent me."

She eagerly ripped open the envelope and pulled out the papers within for both Kirk, James. T and McCoy, Leonard H. 

"Are you sure?" she frowned at the results as she set the papers side by side.

"I did them myself," Higgins answered her. "It's weird, right?"

"Yeah, I mean," she gazed down at the results, half open mouthed. "Yeah."

"It's like their blood was drained, washed and put back it's so squeaking clean," he said. "Their DNA, not like ours. It's...stronger, like its evolved. Who are they? Or what are they?"

"I can't tell you," Evelina looked across to him and chewed her bottom lip slightly; she badly did want to tell him and speculate theories because Higgins would be the right person to do it with, but she couldn't. "It's classified."

"Evelina, what are you dealing with here?" he gestured to the papers in front of her. "The weird devices that were taken as evidence, this sulfur you keep finding everywhere. This is insane, what's going on?"

"Believe me Higgins," she stood up and put the results back into the envelope and stood beside his stool. "I'm trying to find out. Thanks for these, I appreciate it."

She kissed his temple and left the lab with the envelope tucked under her arm, but Higgins caught her up and slung an arm across her shoulders. 

"I know you do," his fingers delicately squeezed her shoulder. "You call if you need anymore tests running, okay?"

Higgins was handsome and charming and everything a good man ought to be, but neither of them had an interest in the other that would spark love or otherwise. They were just two people that clicked, two people that ought to be together, but perhaps just as friends. 

"Cross my heart," she was smiling now, the envelope clutched to her chest. "I'll text you later or something, I've places to be."

"Sure," he answered as they walked by Anderson who ought to have been green in the face with the way he was watching them. "Have a better afternoon."

"Odd phrase," she smiled as she left him at his desk. "See you later."

He gave her a nod and she left in the elevator before flagging down a cab to The Diogenes Club, calling Mycroft on the way to inform him of her arrival.


	12. Malicious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malicious; characterized by malice; intending or intended to do harm.

Across the city and residing in an expensive block of apartments in Tower Hill, a young man stood on his balcony and cast a pair of dark eyes across the city. 

Clad in a designer suit made of navy fabric and a black tie spotted with skulls, his nimble and pale hands curled around the chrome rail of the balcony as his lip snarled in a twisted smile. He was a fairly wealthy man; the whole apartment block belonged to him. 

His minions lived on the lower floors, demons who'd survived this long in his power and there was even a nasty creature or two lingering on the higher floors. Why have security when you can send someone insane and terrify them at the same time with something no one will believe said person ever saw? 

He turned on his heel and strolled back into the penthouse that he'd claimed as his own. The place was immaculate, painted in shades of grey and off white with furniture to match; leather and glass in the living space, chrome and granite in the kitchen. 

He left his own living space and descended a floor to another apartment that looked to be in a shoddy state of disrepair, but it wasn't; he'd made it look that way. 

A devils trap had been sprayed in red spray paint across the middle of the living area and sigils and markings lined the walls in varying different shades of spray paint. In one corner was an expertly drawn sigil for a tulpa; something he'd had a severe amount of fun with before growing bored.

Bottles lined the walls on crooked shelves containing indeterminate substances and bones were lined up neatly, animal and human alike; in one corner he was storing the bones of his minions downstairs who'd find themselves in a whole other world of trouble should they cross him.

Against a wall was a table draped in a black cloth, the top adorned with animal bones and a handful of different herbs. A pile of photos marked with bloody X's sat by a large bronze bowl and a silver knife stood with its point jammed deep into the wood of the table.

His last summoning hadn't gone to plan, the demons hadn't shown and he'd had to deal with hiding two bodies that ought to have been two new minions. He turned a glower at the devils trap, kicking at the paint with the toe of his shoe, but it never moved. 

He needed help and he wasn't at liberty to admit that. The last time he'd summoned something hadn't been the only time things hadn't gone accordingly. It was one thing to read the books and believe in what he was doing, but what if that wasn't enough? What if he needed an extra snap of magic or whatever the hell it was that dragged a demon up from hell? 

James Moriarty was just a man, an abnormal human being with one tiny thread of humanity left within him that was beginning to wear thin. He was all poison and malice, mischief and viciousness, but ultimately still human. 

Not vampire, werewolf, spirit, warlock or anything else that went bump in the night, but mortal. 

And yet, he had a card up his sleeve. Literally. A business card tucked into the cuff of his shirt.  
The card was dove grey and splattered with blood, the writing on the card a metallic lilac showing nothing else but two letters: S.M. 

Moriarty had ways and means of getting what he wanted and never did he ever not get his way, it was just a crying shame that the young Lycan didn't realize that when she was keeping information from him.


	13. Compeer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Compeer; a person of equal rank, status, or ability. ( _I.E Mycroft & Sherlock Holmes._)

There was a certain etiquette to attending The Diogenes Club, even if you were expected company. You had to be immaculately dressed, poised and polite. Courteous, pleasant and well mannered. 

Before Evelina stepped out of the taxi, she checked her hair, straightened out her clothes and applied a new coat of lipstick, before her high heels met the pavement and she sent the taxi on its way. 

She let herself in through the door, leaving her name with the man on duty who was dressed very much like a butler. Told to wait, she loitered by the front door, before Mycroft came to fetch her himself. 

He wore an expensive grey, three piece suit with a black checkered pattern running through it. An antique pocket watch trailed a golden chain into a the right hand pocket of his waistcoat and a maroon coloured handkerchief was folded immaculately and placed into the breast pocket of his jacket to match his tie. 

“Evelina,” he said, eyes wandering her attire on their own accord. 

Mycroft hardly looked a thing like his younger sibling. Where Sherlock had coarse, dark curls, Mycroft had a receding hairline of fine, light brown hair. Sherlock was tall and stick thin, his skin pale and his cheekbones prominent and Mycroft was much the same aside from colour in his skin and meat on his bones; Sherlock often joked about a diet his brother was on, Evelina didn’t see that he needed it.

“Mr. Holmes,” Evelina said politely with a small nod. “You were expecting me, weren’t you?”

“I was,” he turned on his heel, hands still in his pockets and began to walk away. “This way.”

He led her down a wood paneled hall with equally wooden floors that made the sound of her heels ricochet back. Opening a door at the end of the hall, he held it open for her to pass into his office, before he nodded to one of two chairs in front of an expensive looking desk.

“I trust,” Mycroft closed the door behind himself and sat in the chair behind the desk facing her. “That you are keeping my brother sane. How is he?”

“I’m not his babysitter, Mycroft,” she crossed her legs over and glanced at him. “Why don’t you pick up the phone and ask him yourself?” 

The elders eyes squinted a little before he sat a little more comfortably himself, laying his arms on the arms of the chair as he studied her. A long moment of silence passed where they just watched one another before Mycroft finally spoke. 

“That would involve pulling my brother from a potentially important case that might have been solved sooner had I not called,” he said, ignoring Evelina’s eye roll and miniscule shake of her head. “It is my understanding that you’re here to see the two men you placed in my care?”

“In all fairness,” Evelina said, gazing at the rows of leather bound books beside her on a tall, wooden shelf. “I did ask first and you could have said no, but you didn’t. So please, Mr. Holmes, do not make out that I have inconvenienced you in any such way when all you had to say was no.” 

She paused for a moment as Mycroft chewed the inside of his bottom lip and tapped a finger impatiently on the arm of the chair. 

“But yes, I am here to see them,” she said. “The world would probably end if I paid a house call to you out of the kindness of my heart.”

“You’re the expert in matters of the apocalypse, Miss Clarke,” Mycroft said icily. “You ought to know.”

She gave him a sardonic smile, her eyes trained on him as he rose from his chair and moved back to the door.

“Shall we?” he opened it and she got up, slinging her bag back on her shoulder as she ducked under the elder Holmes’ arm.

She followed him up a grand flight of stairs with cast iron railings and a dark wood banister, all the while walking directly at his side and not behind him like she was just some little person. 

“I understand that this is a very, shall we say, ‘sensitive’ case,” Mycroft spoke quietly as they scaled a second staircase. “I do hope you’re not going to make this a matter of national importance.”

“We’ll see,” she said half jokingly. “I doubt anyone would believe two men happened to come back in time and manage to get possessed at the same time too. Farfetched, really.” 

“But true, nonetheless,” Mycroft answered her. “Is it not?”

“It is,” she answered. “I just want to ask them about themselves and I’ll get out of what little hair you have left.”

Mycroft gave a slight grunt and gestured his hand towards a set of grand, double doors before stalking back down the stairs leaving her very much to it. With a satisfied half smirk, she headed to the doors that were manned by two more butler-looking men. 

“I have the authority of Mr. Holmes to be in this room, whom you have just seen direct me to these very doors,” she said half heartedly. “My name is Miss Evelina Clarke, I’m the consulting...um, consultant, on this case. They are my subjects.”

One of the men guarding the door, knocked once and opened it before permitting her entry. She passed with a nod of thanks before she closed the door behind her and turned to the room.


	14. Coalesce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coalesce; come together to form one mass or whole.

The room had an unnecessarily high ceiling with a huge, golden chandelier hanging from its middle and a U shape of French style loveseats surrounded an antique coffee table in the middle of the room.

The windows were to her left, draped in velvet, royal blue curtains and the whole room was carpeted in a strange maroon colour, dotted here and there with Persian rugs. To her right, double glass doors led into a small library with high-backed leather chairs and directly ahead of her were another set of double doors leading into a bedroom where a figure was perched on the edge of the bed looking her way. 

She lingered for a moment and the figure stood, making its way into the main seating area of the huge room they were in; it was Leonard. 

“Oh, its you,” he gave a frown. “Thought you were done with Jim and I.”

“I wish,” she said as she looked at him; a small smile was on her lips but Leonard had turned away. “Jim around?”

“No,” he answered bluntly. “He’s out with one of whoever’s friends.”

She assumed ‘whoever’ meant Mycroft and wondered if Jim was getting chauffeured all over London. He probably was and he’d probably be enjoying it; he seemed like that kind of guy and that brought a smile to her face. 

“Spiffy digs,” she said, glancing around. 

“I suppose,” Leonard had resigned himself to the middle loveseat and he was now studying her with curious hazel eyes. “So, is there somethin’ I can help you with? You here on morgue business?”

Even though Evelina had dealt with difficult people in the past, Leonard really succeeded in making her feel more than a little uncomfortable with his tone of voice and the way he sat with his arms crossed. 

“I’m off duty,” she said. “Completely off duty. No morgue, no detective, no police.”

“My God,” Leonard half snorted, his eyes growing wide. “You work for the police? Just how much trouble are me and Jim actually in? Or ain’t you at liberty to say? Cause you sure as Hell don’t say much about anythin’.” 

“I don’t work for anybody,” she said ignoring his outburst. “I have ties with some of the officers, the ones who process test results mostly. And the D.I for when I need back up. The morgue work just occupies my brain.”

Leonard looked at her with sheer horror and confusion across his face before she dared to sit on the loveseat to his right. He sat rigid, arms crossed tight and eyes fixed solely on her as she got comfortable.

“Just who in the hell are you?” he asked. 

“Swapsies,” she suggested and he gave her an even more confused look. “Trade information. I’ll tell you what I can about me, you tell me about you.”

“What do you mean what you can?” he narrowed his eyes. “You under oath not to tell super secrets or somethin’?”

“Kind of,” she said rocking her head side to side slowly. “You’d have to take that up with Mycroft seen as he is the British government and all.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you anythin’ kid,” he said firmly, having made up his mind. “Y’already know the basics, ain’t that enough?”

She tried to hide the look of annoyance on her face; she’d probably be irritable too in his situation but he wasn’t really making anything better or easier for himself. 

“Look,” she said. “I’m just trying to help and believe me, there’s no one else in the whole of London who knows what they’re doing more than me. Especially considering this case. There are things you couldn’t ever imagine out there, things I’m not even sure exist in your universe-”

“Hang on,” he held up a hand. “You ain’t batted so much as an eyelid about the time difference, why not?”

“Super secret number one,” she said with a regretful look. “Can’t tell you. Mycroft refers to it as a national secret or something, whatever, he makes me sound more important than I am.”

“So, just how do you expect me to trust you,“ he gave a sceptical look as his arms remained crossed, “If you can’t tell me a damn thing about yourself? I mean, you see my problem here, right?”

“I don’t expect you to do anything, Mr. McCoy,” she assured him. “I told you my name, didn’t I?”

“Your name,” he snorted with laughter. “Yeah, Evelina. That’s all I know about you.”

“You know I’m a morgue technician at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital,” she said. “And you know I have ties with New Scotland Yard.”

“Yeah, well,” Leonard shrugged uncomfortably.

“You also know or rather assume I’ve dealt with something like this before,” she studied him. “And you’re right, sort of. I have dealt with a rising bodies before, but not from a whole other time.”

“Rising bodies?” he leant forwards to her ever so slightly.

“Super secret number two,” she said. “Although a few people are in on this one, you and Jim are bound to find out sooner or later.”

“Huh,” he bowed his head and jostled his knees slightly. “I still don’t trust you.”

“I can’t blame you,” she said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t trust me either, I’m dangerous.”

She looked away from him, picking at her fingernails before she took a fleeting glance of the room. She hadn’t said it to grab his attention, but it had. The truth was that she was dangerous, not in a way that she herself would hurt others, but in a way that others would potentially get hurt because of her. 

“Dangerous?” he asked, trying to keep curiosity out of his voice. “How?” 

“Super secret number two,” she said apologetically. “But, for what its worth, my name is Evelina Clarke, I’m 27 and my flat mate is Sherlock Holmes. I read a lot, I have a really sort of weird admirer at New Scotland Yard called Anderson and I have personalized ringtones for people in my mobile phone because I think its funny.” 

“Sherlock Holmes,” Leonard frowned at her. “The, Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yeah, but modern day,” she said. “How’s he exist in your world?”

“He existed in the 1800s, turns out he’s an ancestor of a friend of mine,” he answered. “There’s books written about him, novels of his adventures.”

“Well, the man looking after you, that’s Sherlock’s brother,” she said. “Mycroft. You be nice to him, Jim too. Where is Jim?”

“Told you,” Leonard sunk down the loveseat a little, the toes of his shoes almost touching the table legs in front of him. “Out. Chauffer took him shoppin’ before he tried climbin’ the walls.”

“You understand that I’m keeping you here to keep you safe,” she looked right at him. “Until I can determine for sure what happened, I need you to stay here.”

He didn’t look happy about it, but he gave a reluctant nod as Evelina grabbed her bag and stood. She smoothed out her coat and to her surprise, Leonard stood too. 

“You told me your name and age and even a few pointless things,” he said, sinking his hands into his jean pockets; Mycroft had probably sent someone out to get new clothes for them, she made a mental note to thank him on the way out. “But you didn’t say where you were from.”

“Super secret number one,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not allowed to. Tell Jim I dropped by, tell him I said hello and tell him that if he actually does start climbing the walls, Mycroft won’t hesitate to send him to Bart’s psych ward.”

“Sure thing,” Leonard ducked his head to avoid showing the start of a small smile. “You ain’t gonna ask any questions or nothin’?”

“I told you Mr. McCoy,” she gave a smile as she fastened the belt around her coat. “I’m off the clock. You might be here a long while, thought you could use a friend. But you don’t trust me so much and that’s okay. Just remember, I’m not a stranger.”

Leonard gave a nod as she said goodbye and he resigned himself back to the loveseat, listening as her heels clicked down the wooden floor outside of the room, before the noise faded down the stairs and out of earshot. 

-

At the foot of the stairs, Evelina was surprised to find Mycroft waiting for her. He watched as she walked down the stairs before she stopped in front of him and glanced up to him; he wasn't as tall as Sherlock's six foot frame, but he was still taller than she was. 

"I trust you got the information you came for?" Mycroft questioned.

"I didn't come for information, Mr. Holmes," she said, sliding her hands into her coat pockets. "I just came to see how they were; they're human after all."

"Yes, I suppose," Mycroft glanced up the staircase before he pulled an envelope out of his back pocket. "I hope to see you there. My brother also."

Evelina took the envelope from him and gave it a once over, deciding to open it when she got back to Baker Street. 

"You don't sound so sure about that," she glanced back to him.

"The more the merrier," Mycroft attempted to give a pleasant smile. "Invite your friends, I'm hoping your subjects join in."

"Join in?" she gave him an uneasy look. 

"It's a dance," he answered. "Champagne, music, you know." 

"And you think Sherlock's going to come along?" she gave a laugh. "To a dance?"

"Yes," he said simply. "Because you are bringing him. Formal attire if you would."

"Yeah, well," she gave a shrug and tucked the envelope into her pocket. "Thank you, for letting me stop by."

"I will never repeat this again," Mycroft took a cautious step towards her. "But you are welcome to stop by anytime so long as you adhere to the rules. You are taking care of my brother, I wish for you to tell me what he is doing and how he is."

"I'll keep that in mind," she looked down to the elders shoes. "I'll get back to Baker Street now."

Mycroft stepped back and gave a curt nod before Evelina turned on her heel and then turned back, remembering Leonard's attire. 

"I'll pay you back for their clothes and whatever else you bought them," she said. "You're really looking after them."

"Don't mind about that," Mycroft answered. "Off to Baker Street with you before someone catches me being pleasant."

Evelina hid a smile and left The Diogenes Club, clutching at the envelope in her pocket. Formal attire meant formal attire at The Diogenes Club; cocktail dresses, top hats and tails, bowties, cufflinks and high heels. 

She didn't own a dress that wasn't for work and high heels weren't a thing she often wore. Sherlock probably wasn't home yet and there was little else she could be doing and Knightsbridge wasn't too far away. 

Flagging down a cab, she tucked the envelope into her bag and headed over to Knightsbridge to find herself an outfit for the dance.


	15. Ingress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ingress; the action or fact of going in or entering; the capacity or right of entrance.

The following evening, Evelina was ready for 5:30pm, yet the dance didn't start for another hour. She looked more elegant and feminine than Sherlock had ever seen her before as she drifted into the main living area to put on her jewelry. 

She wore a black, floor length gown made from lace with long sleeves. The was no plunging neckline, no rounded neckline, in fact, it just fitted snugly to the tops of her shoulders, leaving her collarbones exposed along with her tattoo that peered out from a thick, gold chain necklace. 

She had matching pyramid shaped golden studs in her ears and golden pins with diamantes in her hair, holding an up-do in place that fell in waves and loose curls. Her make up was minimal; pressed powder, mascara and a nude lipstick and her feet sat in a pair of high-heeled, suede shoes with a platform at the front and a band around the ankle. 

Her dress glided against the floor, even with her heels on and as she helped Sherlock with his bowtie and waistcoat, his eyes absently read the ink across her chest that he could see. 

"Non omnis moriar," he read, filling in the blank letters with assumptions where the gold chain covered. "A curious phrase."

"Not all of me shall die," she translated. "A warning to demons and any other thing that tries to harm or kill me. Doesn't have the effect of a ward or a sigil of course."

"Just the effect of your startling personality," Sherlock quirked a brow as Evelina finished with his bow tie. "Latin is familiar to you in your line of work."

"As is death," she said, pulling his waistcoat around him to fasten the buttons. 

When she was done, she took herself back to her room and affixed a small demon-killing blade the calf of her left leg in a sheath and a handgun to the thigh of her right. A lot of people were going to be congregated in one place and Leonard and Jim would be there too; with all the commotion that had already happened, something new might happen tonight. 

She made sure she had the file she'd put together for Mycroft; a collection of everything she knew about Leonard and Jim thus far and all the information about the summoning and whatever else she'd found odd. 

"Are weapons necessary?" Sherlock enquired as Evelina sorted out her dress to cover the bumps on her legs.

"Precautionary," she answered. "Rather be ready and something doesn't happen than be unarmed when it does, Mr. Holmes. Now, are you ready?"

With a reluctant sigh, Sherlock checked his hair in the mirror over the fireplace, ensuring the parting was neat, before he walked to the door and offered his arm to Evelina to help her down the stairs in her dress and heels.

"Oh, you both look lovely!" Mrs. Hudson clapped her hands together at the foot of the stairs as she watched Sherlock and Evelina descend them together. "Give my best to Mycroft and have a lovely night."

Sherlock grimaced slightly, standing tall with his arm still through Evelina's, but Evelina smiled at the kindly landlady with a nod before she allowed Sherlock to lead her out onto the street where one of Mycroft's cars was waiting for them.

-

Cars rolled up outside the exquisite white building and dropped off their equally exquisite guests at the steps before pulling away again. The double front doors were open wide and manned by two of Mycroft's butler type men. 

Sherlock stepped out of their car and offered his hand to Evelina who took it graciously as people stared at them. Offering his arm once more, Evelina took it and allowed him to lead her up the steps and inside once they'd shown their invite card. 

The grand staircase rose before them and people stood around in clusters. Some held champagne flutes, others crystal cut tumblers of honey coloured liquids. The women were in dresses of silk and lace, some even in velvet. Expensive furs circled cold shoulders, pearls glimmered on collarbones and semi-precious and precious stones glinted on priceless rings. 

With the slight elevation from her heels, she was about eye height with Holmes and out of the corner of her emerald eyes, she could see him muttering as he passed his own eyes across the gathering.

"What are you saying?" she leant slightly closer to him as they stopped and he turned her around to face him. 

A butler stopped by them holding a gleaming silver tray of champagne flutes and Evelina took one as Holmes declined. 

"Behind you, small congregation of women," Holmes was glancing over his shoulder. "The fur around the eldest woman's shoulders is old, patchy in places. The jewelry she wears is tarnished. It's all she has left, recently divorced, her husband now owns everything."

"The man here, beside us, the one giving you the eye," he said, his sea coloured eyes moved to his right. "Cheating on his wife with, two? three? No, four different women. He hopes you'll be number five." 

Evelina turned her head to her right to look at the man in question and sure enough he was grinning at her with perfect teeth that were blindingly white. She turned back to Holmes with a lifted brow before purposefully taking his hand and dragging him away; he made deductions when he was nervous or irritated to distract himself.

"Really can't take you anywhere, can I?" she said as they moved to a quieter corner of the room. 

"We were invited here," Sherlock recalled. "You didn't have to bring me."

"Yes, I did," she answered. "Your brother made sure of that fact."

"Mhm," Sherlock answered her, turning his head away to focus on some more deductions. 

"Speaking of," Evelina downed the champagne in one swift movement and carefully placed it onto a passing by tray as she retrieved the file that had been tightly tucked under her arm. "I'm going to go and find your brother. Keep an eye out for Molly and the others, won't you?"

Sherlock didn't grace her with a verbal answer and she rolled her eyes and took off through the crowd. At the foot of the exquisite staircase, she asked one of the men standing guard where the elder Holmes was. After giving her name, he allowed her up the staircase to Mycroft's second personal office.

She knocked twice and waited patiently, glancing up the rest of the staircase wondering if Jim and Leonard were already downstairs mixed in with the crowd.

"Enter," Mycroft's voice came from inside, sounding dreary and ultimately bored. 

When Evelina stepped through the door and closed it behind her, Mycroft looked pleasantly surprised and reclined slightly in his chair.

"Now this is a surprise, Miss Clarke," a sharp smile cut his lips in half. "I had rather thought Sherlock would have talked you out of it."

"Make no mistake, Mr. Holmes," she said walking towards his desk with her dress drifting over the floor as she went. "He did try, but it didn't work. I wanted to give you this before the party started."

She held out the brown file in one hand as Mycroft glanced at it.

"And what is this?" he sat forwards and took it from her, flipping open the file.

"Everything I know," she said. "Up to press. Everything they have told me, everything your brother and I have discovered, everything from Scotland Yard and everything from the morgue at Bart's."

"Valuable information," Mycroft closed the file and slipped it into a draw. 

"I wanted you to know what's going on," she said. "It's only fair if they're staying here."

Mycroft gave a nod as he stood, showing off a beige three piece suit with a black shirt and tie to match. He fastened the buttons on his blazer, made sure his cufflinks were straight and picked a cane from an umbrella bucket by the door with a silver wolfs head. 

"The party is about to begin, Miss Clarke," Mycroft opened the door, walking with the cane as he did so. "Care to accompany me down the stairs?"

"Alright," she gave a nod and a smile as she joined him in the hall. 

Like Sherlock had, Mycroft offered her his arm and he walked slowly with her towards the top of the stairs. At the bottom, Mycroft's men saw him approaching and called for silence, tapping on the empty champagne flutes.

All eyes moved to focus on the stairs and Evelina immediately regretted the decision to join him. They waited at the top for a moment before Mycroft began to walk and Evelina made sure to keep in step with him, her dress partly flowing down the stairs behind her. 

She picked Molly out of the crowd in a pastel yellow gown with Tom by her side in a matching tie. Lestrade was dressed up in a tuxedo along with Anderson who stood by his side much to Evelina's dismay. She clutched gently at Mycroft's arm as he glanced at her before he nodded his head to two men a little away from her group of friends.

Leonard and Jim.

Mycroft stopped four steps from the bottom and took a bow, inviting Evelina to do the same as Sherlock rolled his eyes with a miniscule shake of his head a little in front of them.

"Thank you all for attending," Mycroft's voice rose and filled the lobby area. "Drink, dance and be merry. I wish you all a pleasant night."

A loud roar of applause filled the room and Mycroft bowed once more as two double doors were opened up into the usual sitting room. 

Mycroft let Evelina go and she immediately darted to Sherlock who was still looking at his elder brother as the rest of the party shuffled into the newly opened room.

The furniture had been taken out, leaving the floors wide and open. The chandeliers were lit and bookcases lined the walls. Another room ahead of the one they were in opened up into another large sitting room and by the window sat a string band playing delicate music so people could dance. 

"Anderson's asking after you already," Sherlock commented as he offered his arm and led her through with the rest of the crowd. 

"Wonderful," she answered. "I didn't think he'd be here; I thought Higgins was coming instead."

She looked around the immaculate room as Sherlock brought her to a stop and handed her a second flute of champagne as he this time, took one for himself. They were joined by Molly, who complimented Evelina's dress, and Tom who greeted her with a kiss on either cheek as Sherlock looked on with a puzzled look. 

Tom lead Molly away for a dance as Evelina turned to Sherlock and raised a brow. He and Tom were oddly alike in looks apart from Tom was a little taller and bonier than Holmes with brown eyes instead of blue. 

A moment passed and Lestrade wandered up to them, closely followed by Anderson as Evelina stepped a little closer to Holmes and downed the rest of her champagne in one. Tom danced Molly back over to them who was beaming from ear to ear and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sherlock give a resolute scowl. 

She nudged him delicately before she disposed of her champagne flute on a passing tray, but that didn't deter him from his inner deductions about Tom who was stood uncomfortably between his date and Holmes.

"Evelina, you look beautiful," Lestrade lifted his glass towards her, his eyes lingering over the lace dress fitted snug to her figure. "That dress is really something else."

Anderson was about to say something but Evelina cut him off as she thanked Lestrade for the compliment and paid him back tenfold when she said he looked dashing in his tuxedo. 

"Care to dance?" he offered with a grin.

"I would, actually," she gave a small bow before sliding her hand into Lestrade’s which he had held out to her. 

"I figured I'd save you from Anderson's awful dancing," Lestrade said as he danced with her, holding her like she was some delicate little thing. “And Sherlock doesn’t look to be the dancing type.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” she said, stealing a look over to the group they’d left behind as she looked over Lestrade’s shoulder. “And thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he said, carefully avoiding standing on her feet as he looked down and saw the ink on her chest. “Didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

“I’d wager there’s lots of things you don’t know about me,” she gave a slight smirk as the musical piece came to an end and let go of him before she gave him a tiny bow which he returned.

“Like what?” he offered her his arm to lead her back to the group. 

“That’d be telling, Detective Inspector,” she gave him a smile before she caught the faces of Leonard and Kirk out of the corner of her eye. “Excuse me.”

“Where you going?” he frowned. 

“Never you mind!” she gave his arm a slight squeeze.


	16. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction; a formal presentation of one person to another, in which each is told the other's name.

She slipped through the sea of expensive suits and dresses, away from their group until she slipped out of the crowd in the corner where Leonard and Kirk were standing looking increasingly uncomfortable.

“It’s a party,” she said, standing in front of them to catch their attention. “You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“Evelina?” Leonard said unsurely; with her hair up and style different, he couldn’t be too sure. 

“Mycroft told me he hoped you’d come down and join in,” she said, looking between them. “It’s nice to see you trying to get along with your circumstances.”

Leonard gave a snort but Kirk stepped forwards, admiring Evelina from head to toe. Acutely aware that Kirk was admiring her like he was a lion and she was his prey, she stood a little more comfortably and let him look all he liked as Leonard rolled his eyes and leant against the wall.

“Jim, that ain’t gonna work in this century,” he grumbled. “I don’t even know how it manages to work in ours.”

Evelina glanced at him with a slight, confused look and Leonard shook his head slightly. It was a mere moment later when Kirk actually finally spoke. 

“Oh, you’re the doctor aren’t you?” he said, the penny finally dropping. “Evelina or something.”

“Or something,” she nodded with an amused frown. “Just like you're James Tiberius, or something.”

Kirk’s cheeks flushed pink but he didn’t let it deter him from his goal. He’d thought that since it was a party, there’d be lots of pretty girls and yet no matter how many times Leonard had told him it’d be a cocktail party with extravagant dresses and champagne, he still thought otherwise. 

Evelina was the youngest and prettiest woman he could see in the room and now his sights were set firmly on her. 

“You look like the kind of girl who’s heard every line in the book,” he circled her slightly and Leonard watched, still shaking his head. “But hey, what’s one more?”

Evelina glanced over one shoulder as he moved around her, then the other as he came back to the front, his bright blue eyes blazing with mischief.

“Alright, future boy,” she crossed her arms and slightly lolled her head to one side as Leonard noticed the ink across her chest, half hidden by the chain around her neck. “Woo me.”

“Well that dress,” Kirk let his eyes wander her slender figure. “Would look great on the floor beside my bed upstairs.”

She choked down a laugh and bit the inside of her lip before regaining a little composure after realizing he was being deadly serious. 

“Y’know actually,” she said, glancing up to meet his gaze. “I think it looks better on me.”

Kirk’s expression moved into one of smugness before he realized what she’d said and fell like a tonne of bricks. 

“You’re right, it does,” Leonard said, taking a sip of his champagne. “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” she gave a frown, unsure of how to take his words since all she’d ever known him as was grumpy. “You scrub up well yourselves.”

Kirk, who hadn’t been listening really to anything either of them said, was busy drumming up another chat up line; one he was sure would work to win her over. 

“Hey, Bones,” he turned to his friend who gave him a jaundiced look. “You better call God, tell him he’s missing an angel.”

Evelina shook her head, half in amusement and half in embarrassment as Leonard groaned at just how terrible that line had actually been. 

“Cute, but I’m not interested,” she gave a shrug to Kirk who hung his head, before a smile came to her lips. “But, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

Kirk broke a laugh before he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

“You’re alright,” he said. “I’m gonna grab some champagne, you want some? Bones?”

“I’m good,” Evelina shook her head as Leonard did the same. “Thanks.”

Jim slunk through the crowd and into the other room where there were tables of finger food and trays of champagne going around as Evelina was left standing with Leonard who was now holding an empty champagne flute.

“You know,” she said. “It’s not much of a party if you stand in a corner and look miserable all night.”

“There ain’t much else to do,” he answered her, looking over at the band. “God knows these ladies are too old, even for me and I sure as hell ain’t twirling Jim around on the dance floor.”

“So you can dance?” she asked with a slight smile.

“I’m alright,” he raised one brow. “Why?”

“Well, you say all the other women are too old,” she clasped her hands behind her back and took a step closer to him. “Yet here I am, right in front of you. Passing up a golden opportunity Mr. McCoy.”

She gave him a smile and began to make for the crowd to disappear into the other room where her friends were, but Leonard hesitantly grabbed for her wrist, dropping it like a hot coal the instant she turned around.

“Alright,” he ruffled the back of his hair nervously as he looked at her. “May I have this dance?”

Evelina was astounded by how polite Leonard could be. He was a true Southern gentleman, even as far forwards as 2252. He held his hand out to her awkwardly and she eyed it for a moment, before sliding her own into his.

“Just one then,” she gave a nod as Leonard put his hand on her hip and held her other in his own. “I have to get back to my friends.”

He gave a nod and led her around the floor, his steps perfectly timed to the music that played. It was one of few pieces Evelina actually knew, but only mostly because she’d been to see Swan Lake a handful of times since she’d been in London. 

“You know the song?” she asked as she let him waltz her across the floor. 

“Tchaikovsky,” Leonard answered, trying not to look at her as he did. “The classics always live on.”

Evelina watched his footwork as they moved, his steps effortless and fluent yet his body was rigid and unmoving, nervous probably. 

The piece finished and Leonard let her go and gave the courteous bow before he turned and looked for Kirk who hadn’t yet reappeared. Evelina noticed and she tapped him on the back before nodding into the other room.

“Come on,” she gave him a delicate smile. “My friends are in there anyway, I’d love to introduce you.”

“I don’t know...” Leonard said unsurely. “I ain’t great with new people.”

“Well, hell,” Evelina snorted a laugh. “Who told you that?”

She led the way forwards but Leonard frowned after her; the phrase she’d uttered before she laughed wasn’t typically British, it was typically Southern. Typically Georgian. Maybe she had another Georgian friend? Or maybe she just felt like saying what she had.

Before he lost her in the crowd, he hurried after her, taking care to keep a step or so behind her so it didn’t look like he was latched to her. 

The other room was quieter with fewer people who seemed to stand in groups, bragging in their well mannered accents that made Leonard’s skin crawl. In his time, things like this were reserved for the best of the best, this was a place he didn’t belong. Jim maybe, but not him.

Evelina wandered to a small congregation of people and Leonard recognized the sweet, brown eyed girl from the morgue attached to the arm of a handsome, tall man with eyes as brown as her own before he noticed Jim lingering beside her. 

“Oh, you’ve met Jim already?” Evelina said, a little puzzled as she glanced around the group who nodded.

“Yes, we have,” Sherlock answered. “Overly confident and fueled by bravado. You can tell by the way he walks and holds himself. Almost completely fearless, life is one big adventure.”

“Almost?” Kirk gave a poisonous smile. 

“You’re worried about failing someone,” Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “Or a group of people. Hard to deduce which is more important.”

“Don’t mind him,” Evelina glanced at Kirk. “He does this when he’s uncomfortable. Like a child throwing a tantrum.” 

“I resent your words,” Holmes turned his glance on her but she merely smiled. 

“I’m sure Kirk resents yours too,” she said before she turned to Leonard. “This is Leonard McCoy, the second John Doe.”

A wave of friendly nods and handshakes came his way along with Molly’s bright grin before Evelina’s friend turned his sea blue eyes on him. 

“Steady hands and a firm handshake,” Holmes noted as he reluctantly shook his hand. “You have a high profession yet your personality isn’t a wholly pleasant one. Seems they’ll let anyone be a doctor these days.”

Leonard still had hold of his hand in a shake and barely had the time to be offended as the other let go and turned to Evelina. 

Evelina was about to call Sherlock out on his actions, but a hand on her shoulder deterred her and she turned away with a scowl to find that the hand belonged to the elder Holmes who looked to be uncomfortable about something.

“If I could trouble you for a mere moment, Miss Clarke,” Mycroft spoke as calmly as he could. “I’d like to possess a moment of your time for a pressing matter.”

“Sure,” she said unsurely. “What is it?”

“Come with me,” he requested.


	17. Undesirable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undesirable; not wanted or desirable because harmful, objectionable, or unpleasant.

He wandered away and Evelina turned back to the group who’d fallen into conversation bar Leonard who looked slightly left out and uneasy. Ignoring her group, she focused on Leonard who raised a brow at her. 

“I’ll be right back,” she gave him a quick smile. “At least I think I will.”

Leonard raised a second brow and shook his head slightly before she hurried off to catch up to Mycroft’s side who was already half way across the lobby where the grand staircase stretched up. 

“You gonna tell me why you’re looking like you got a thorn in your foot?” she asked. 

“There’s a slight problem,” he said. “There’s been a break in.”

He led her to another grand room across the lobby where a large window had been put through, raining glass against the maroon coloured carpet. 

“And why does that have anything to do with me?” she said, looking at the glass and the smashed in frame. “I warded this place top to bottom on your orders.”

“They redecorated since,” Mycroft answered her airily. “The frames you carved into were replaced, things have been painted over. I assumed what was left in my office and other rooms would hold.”

“The wards hold the room they were left in,” Evelina hurried over to the window and sure enough the ledge was smooth and new with a coat of gleaming varnish. “Not the whole building. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I assumed, Miss Clarke,” Mycroft narrowed his eyes at her much like Sherlock did to people he took a dislike to. “Did you not listen?”

There was a sudden clatter of a silver tray hitting a hard floor and Evelina’s head snapped to the doors as Mycroft’s eyes followed.

“Leonard and Kirk,” she said. “Get them out and somewhere safe. Now.”

She hurried ahead and Mycroft struggled to keep her pace wondering how she was managing to move so quickly in her high heels. Shrieking had begun to emit from the room ahead and Evelina broke into as much of a run as she could manage in her dress. 

When they got into the room, five men were circling a small crowd and Evelina could see their black eyes already, nevermind smell the faint scent of sulfur. She hung back a moment, hiding behind the door as she reached for the blade in the sheath affixed to her calf.

With a miserable sigh, she sunk it into the fabric of her dress, creating a thigh to ankle split for easier movement and access to her gun.

“Get as many out as you can,” she glanced to Mycroft. “But make sure Leonard and Jim are safe.”

She hurried into the room and caused a distraction, grabbing one of the suited men from behind. A break in the circle meant that people could run and run they did. A few didn’t make it, didn’t run as fast as they ought to and became prisoner and prey to the demons left in the room. 

Huddled in the corner were Tom and Molly with Anderson and Sherlock, glancing at the scene with brilliant blue and curious eyes. Lestrade was already tending to getting people out and since the demons had lost their play things, they descended on what they’d actually come for; Leonard and Jim.

“Hey!” Evelina yelled across the room as she threw the man she’d grabbed aside. “They don’t belong to you.”

The three that were descending on Leonard and Jim snapped their attention around to her, eyes jet black as she palmed the knife in her hand. The tallest of the group stood up straight and addressed her with a sneer. 

“A hunter,” his head oscillated in a curiously reptilian manner. “We weren’t told there’d be one of you. A pleasant surprise, fun and games.”

They descended on her, closing in a circle, their fingers curled and arms outstretched as they focused on her and her alone. 

She swung around, slashing two of them behind her before she kicked a third away from her with her heel. Black ichor spilt from them as the branded blade came into contact with them, swirling with the crimson of human blood. 

“What the hell...” she heard Anderson across the room and tried to block it out as she turned her attention to the other two. 

“Unless you want to end up like your friends,” Evelina glowered at the beings in front of her. “You don’t want come near me and this knife.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart,” the one she’d kicked had scrambled up behind her and was twisting her wrist in such a way that it made her drop the knife. 

She twisted it back in his grasp and used his grip to pull his arm over her shoulder, resulting in a sickening snap as it screeched in pain. There wasn’t enough time for her to grab her gun or scramble out of the way of the hand that was closing around her throat. 

The fingers dug in to the windpipe and the other two demons stood either side of the tallest who looked down at Evelina’s reddening face with satisfaction. Her hands came up to fight the grip but failed and with one last effort, she kicked out, catching his knee and making his leg buckle.

She fell down herself in a painful heap, choking down breaths as she reached for her gun in its holster. She fired two bullets into either of the tallest ones friends, both wounds spurting a steady stream of ichor and blood that spattered all over her.

The tallest snarled at her and tried to make a run for the door, but she fumbled for the blade among the ichor and blood and flung it, planting it squarely between the shoulder blades of the last demon. 

At some point, Holmes had forcibly moved Anderson, Molly and Tom from the room, but Leonard and Jim hadn’t moved an inch. Evelina felt light headed and like she wanted to gag; the smell of sulfur, ichor and blood wasn’t really helping. 

Sat down, she wavered, her hands sliding in the blood as she tried to stand up and failed. She recalled footsteps coming towards her, someone saying her name in an accent that was pleasing to her ears before her eyes closed.


	18. Acquaintance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acquaintance; a person one knows slightly, but who is not a close friend.

Evelina woke in 221B some hours later, the remnants of a nightmare fading behind her eyelids. 

She was in her room, propped up on her bed with a blanket cast over her, her room lit with a soft but warm glow. With stinging eyes, she turned her head to the source of the light that lit the room; a single lamp on her bedside table. 

Beneath the lamp sat her handgun and the blade she'd taken to the party with her. Both were wiped clean of ichor and blood, the blade gleaming dully in the light. 

She felt a twinge of pain in her left ankle and pulled back the blanket to see she was still wearing her ruined dress. Her shoes were missing from her feet, her left ankle bruising something fierce.

Her neck felt swollen, her throat rough and dry. Her skin felt like sandpaper, her joints stiff and unwilling to move. 

She swung her legs off of the bed as best she could without causing herself too much pain and glanced around for her clock; it was just past 1am. Deciding not to look in the mirror, she moved quickly past it and limped out of her room into the narrow corridor that joined onto the main sitting area of 221B.

She pulled herself along with her hands on the wall, each step sending a sting of pain up her left leg from her ankle. When she surfaced in the living area she was surprised to find four bodies sitting in silence, gaping up at her. 

Sherlock’s head gave a minute nod. He sat comfortably in his leather chair, the violin propped against his chest as though he’d been tuning it whilst the bow lay untouched on the opposing arm. 

Mycroft leant against the side of the fireplace, his right elbow resting in the only space that wasn’t covered by clutter beside the skull Sherlock kept atop the fireplace, whilst the weight of his left side was supported by the wolfs head cane he’d had at the party. 

And even though they weren’t facing her, Evelina could see the pale faces of Kirk and Leonard looking at her through the reflection in the mirror over the fireplace as they took up the sofa underneath the gun shot wall. 

She saw then her reflection. Her hair was a cluster of knots with a glimmer of gold where the slides had been to hold her hair up. The lace of her dress was frayed, the sleeves ripped with torn, gaping holes and her skin stained with black and off red. 

The silence was almost deafening, but she made her way through the middle of the living area, limping as she went towards the kitchen. Sherlock didn’t watch her, but the other three did. 

“Are you alright?” Mycroft called to her as he slipped his pocket watch from his waistcoat.

“What in the hell do you think?” came the reply.

The words drawled slightly on her lips as she slammed a cupboard door or two and dropped something, probably an asprin, into a glass with a pleasing plink sound before filling it with water and lingering in the door. 

Her accent had Leonard frowning again. By now he’d decided she was either wholly Southern or one of her parents had been and it’d been passed down; she definitely wasn’t British with phrases and accents like that slipping out. 

“I was merely asking,” Mycroft pocketed his watch and turned to her in the doorway as she glowered over the rim of the glass. “I won’t be so kind in the future.”

“For the elder brother of an incredibly intelligent mind,” she swirled the clouded water in the glass and necked it, wincing as the bruises tightened as she swallowed. “You are mind-numbingly idiotic.”

“I shall forget you ever said that,” Mycroft’s expression looked dangerous as Leonard and Jim watched the pair. 

“If only I could forget what you neglected to mention,” she answered him. 

Without another single word, Mycroft strolled by her and out of the door of 221B, leaving behind his brother, Leonard and Jim as Evelina glared after him. She turned then, back to the kitchen, leaving her glass in the sink before she eased herself into the chair opposite Sherlock’s.

“You oughta be in bed,” Leonard broke the impending silence. “Restin’ that ankle.” 

“I appreciate that, doctor,” she turned her head carefully towards him as to not strain her neck. “But I’ll be fine.”

“The hell you will,” Leonard stood from the sofa with Jim’s cool blue eyes watching him. “Someone just tried to murder you.”

“Well, they were going to murder you first,” she shrugged one shoulder with a wince of pain. “Maybe. What they were going to do to you would probably be as bad as murder.”

“What they were going to do to us?” Jim questioned.

Sherlock set aside his violin and bow before he rose from the chair and smoothed out his white shirt. He stood over Evelina, causing her to look up to him before he passed the chair with a gentle touch to her shoulder and left the flat. 

“It’s past one in the mornin’,” Leonard frowned after Sherlock who’d grabbed his coat on the way out. “Where’s he goin’?”

“Wherever he likes,” she answered him. 

Jim stood and moved to Evelina, crouching by the chair with wide, searching eyes.

“What were they going to do with us?” he asked her again. “Who were those men?”

“There is conclusive proof that when you were found, presumably dead, that something had happened to you prior to that incident,” she said. “The day after you were found, I consulted the crime scene with permission from New Scotland Yard. In the theatre, there was evidence that a ritual had taken place. A summoning.” 

Jim eyed her for a moment to see if she was joking, but beneath the encrusted blood and dried ichor that looked like a pen had leaked all over, her expression didn’t falter to amusement or jest, it stayed stone cold serious. 

“Whoever had been in there had summoned demons and those demons found their way to you,” she glanced between them. “But the thing about you, both of you, it’s quite amazing. The demons can’t live in you, they can’t survive. The demons got into you in a case of wrong place wrong time, found that they couldn’t adapt, died out and left you in some form of stasis that lead the forensic team who found you to believe that you were dead.”

Jim fell back onto his backside, his knees drawn up with his arms circling them as he looked at the pattern of the blanket thrown over the chair she was sitting in. Leonard was stood by the arm, arms crossed tight over his chest with a worried expression clouding his features. 

“But who’d want to do that to us!” Jim, panicked, glanced up, piercing her with his cold, blue eyes. “We’re over 200 years out of our time, no one here knows us.”

“It wasn’t a targeted attack, Jim,” Leonard glanced down to him over Evelina’s shoulder as he paced behind the chair. “Didn’t you hear? She said they got into us in a case of wrong place, wrong time. But how do you know that? You assumin’?”

“No, I’m not,” she said, twisting around a little to look up to Leonard who seemed to be taking the news better than Jim who was moments away from beginning to rock back and forth. “I was told.” 

Evelina jerked her head gently in the direction of Sherlock’s vacant seat, inviting Leonard to sit down as Jim remained on the floor. The doctor crossed the space in front of her and set himself down in the softened leather, studying her with tired, hazel eyes.

“So someone just knocked on the door and told you?” he quizzed. 

“Remember when I came to see you the other day?” she said, talking over Jim’s head. “Told you about a secret you might find out? Well, you found it out. I deal with the supernatural and currently I’m dealing with demons. I know a demon and he’s not terrible, we’ve had run ins in the past, he’s good for information. He told me.”

“And how does he know?” Jim asked, folding his arms on his knees. 

“He knows everything,” she glanced to him. “And if I told you the truth, you’d never believe me.”

“Try me,” Jim challenged as Leonard looked on. “I’ve seen things you could only dream of.”

Evelina’s lips twitched with a smile, but she fought it off; it was cute that Jim could think that way, after all, he didn’t really know her. 

“Crowley’s the King of Hell,” she said with no smile. “He drives a hard bargain. Literally. He’s got crossroads deals up to his eyeballs.”

Jim snorted with laughter but Evelina let him get on with it, it was Leonard who was giving her a curious look. 

“And he couldn’t tell you who was in the theatre that night?” he asked. 

“He didn’t know,” she answered. “He only knows demons and sometimes they slip through his fingers.”

“I need to lay down,” Jim was still laughing. “This is insane.”

“No more insane than two men suddenly appearing from 2255,” she countered. “But you’ve seen things I could only dream of, right? Well I’ve seen things that make your nightmares look like cotton candy and unicorns. Don’t underestimate me and I won’t underestimate you.”

Kirk’s smile fell and he gave a puzzled look before he crossed to the sofa and laid down, back turned to the chairs as Evelina stood and flinched at the pain in her foot. Leonard got up and gently took an arm as she leant on the arm of the chair.

“I’m fine,” she scalded him, but he refused to let go. “I don’t need your help.”

“I don’t care,” he said, hiding the fact that her words stung a little. “Where you goin’?”

“Kitchen,” she muttered. 

He took her weight as he walked her into the kitchen, sitting her down on one of the chairs at the cluttered table before he grabbed her a glass of water and perched himself on one of the other chairs. 

“So you deal with the supernatural, huh?” he asked.

“You mean, you believe me?” she asked, slightly surprised. “You seem pretty...interested.”

“I am and I do,” he shrugged. “I don’t know how the hell I got here, I ain’t got reason not to believe you. You got concrete evidence with Scotland Yard. You look like you know a thing or two more than other people.”

Evelina smiled slightly before gazing into the glass of water in front of her. 

“Your tattoo,” Leonard nodded to her chest, streaked with dirt and dried blood. “Non omnis moriar; it’s Latin, right?” 

He read it with precision, the words sounding heavenly in his accent as she looked up from her glass and gave him a puzzled frown. 

“Yeah, it is,” she gave a small nod. “You can read Latin? I mean, it’s a dead language now but...”

“Our academy motto is Latin,” Leonard shrugged one shoulder. “Ex astra scienta.”

“From the stars, knowledge,” she translated. “You go to an academy?”

“Went,” he said. “Graduated year before last. Been on our mission for a year.”

“You mentioned a ship before,” she remembered. “A space ship?”

“Star ship,” Leonard gave a smile. “Don’t let Jim hear you say space ship, hates it. That ships somethin’ special to him; the Enterprise, but god only knows where she is now. But forget that, I wanna know more about you and the supernatural.”

“Are you kidding me?” she said. “You’re from 200 years plus in the future and you work on a star ship, in comparison, I am so boring. I kill things that people don’t even realize exist.”

“I come from a future that no one could ever imagine,” Leonard answered her. “We got a lot in common.”

“Who’d have thought,” she said with a crooked smile as she emptied her glass. “And you hated me so much.” 

“Who’s to say I still don’t?” he raised a brow but his lips softened into a slight smile. “And I gotta say kid, that’s a fittin’ phrase for you.”

He stifled a yawn as he nodded to the ink on her chest and Evelina gave a small smile as she dragged herself to the sink to deposit her glass.

“Down the hall, second on the right,” she said. “That’s my room. Go get some sleep, I’ll take you back to the Diogenes in the morning.”

“No, you need to rest,” he half argued in puzzlement. 

“No, I need to shower and get out of this dress,” she said. “And then I need to do some reading. I’ll be alright. Go.”

He wanted to argue, but her green eyes blazed with force and he turned on his heel and went. Once Evelina had grabbed a clean change of clothes, she said goodnight and left him before taking herself for a shower.


	19. Endearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Endearing; inspiring affection.

Leonard hardly slept that night but he found himself waking up just past 6am when the sunlight broke through the half closed curtains in Evelina's room. He'd slept on top of the sheets that smelt like bubblegum and tried his hardest not to let his eyes wander over her belongings. 

There were small chests and trinkets lining every available surface, some etched with curious symbols he'd never seen before. There were strange talismans and figurines and a lot of aged, leather-bound books that looked as though they were once prop pieces in historic movies. 

With ease, he slid from the bed and slipped his feet into his shoes before leaving the room, quietly closing the door behind him in case he woke anyone else up. 

When he made it into the living room it was Evelina he saw first. Her small frame was squashed into the soft leather of her flat mates chair; a book hung dangerously from her right hand with its spine clasped half-heartedly between her thumb and forefinger whilst her chin was propped up in her left palm. 

She was quite happily asleep and for a moment, Leonard just watched her. After what he'd witnessed her do what she had the previous night, he felt like he was peeking into a private moment in her life. 

She looked so serene and soft as opposed to violent and fearless. 

He crossed the small space between the small hallway and the chair and gently took the book from the feeble grasp of her right hand. She didn't wake but she did shuffle around before settling back down and Leonard was thankful for that. 

She'd been reading up on some kind of alphabet; Enochian, the page read as Leonard glanced down at it. It didn't make a whole lot of sense to him, languages never had, that was Uhura's specialty.

She'd probably know what Enochian was, wherever she and the rest of the crew were. With a deep sigh, Leonard allowed his eyes to skim over the odd shaped letters with their pronunciations beneath before he carefully closed the book and set it aside, looking back down on the sleeping girl. 

He couldn't see her ankle from where he was stood by the chair, it was tucked beneath her, but he could see her neck and her hands.

Ichor still faintly stained the creases in her skin an off grey colour, even in the thin wrinkles of her finger knuckles and her nail beds. She was comfortable, or at least she looked that way, in a pair of jeans and a long jumper with too big sleeves that she'd pulled over her wrists and knuckles, and with her hair pulled over one shoulder, Leonard could just see the skin of her neck.

Blotches of violet and yellow blossomed in a single line down the left side of her throat and a singular almost jet black bruise sat on her right, showing very simply where the demons fingers had been on her neck. 

He wondered if her ankle would be the same colour as her neck; it wasn't doing her much good sitting on it in his opinion. He figured it might be swollen; he hoped there'd be no lasting damage. 

Jim seemed content and was curled up on the sofa beneath the gunshot wall with the odd wallpaper and the spray painted happy face that had been crudely drawn in a bright yellow spray-paint and then been given bullets for eyes. 

He thought about waking him for a moment but realized that the kid probably wouldn't keep quiet, at least not quiet enough not to wake Evelina who was dozing in the chair who actually needed to rest.

Instead, Leonard took one last look over Evelina and took himself to the window, sitting at the desk that jutted out from the wall behind the chair Evelina was sat in. He sat and he waited for the sun to rise, watching as the shadow of the roof sunk lower and lower on the buildings opposite.

Leonard had seen so many sunrises, most of them occurring on Earth, a few of them occurring further afield in the cosmos. He'd seen sapphire skies slashed with furious orange as three suns rose at once and the violet skies of Canzen Six that burned with a cobalt blue sun, but nothing compared to the serenity of an Earth sunrise.

Nothing compared to the simplicity of one sun and nine planets and a morning sky that was pastel coloured.

And then he got to thinking about his Earth two hundred years ahead and in an entire other universe and it made his head hurt. Not that there was a great deal of anything waiting for him, in fact there was next to nothing other than the friends he'd made aboard the Enterprise.

There was four more years of disease, danger, darkness and silence waiting for him if he and Jim ever made it back to their own time and place and even he had to admit to himself that he was in no rush to get back to it. 

2014 had some charm to it at least; he was observing break through technologies that had yet to filter down to their time line and become what they were. Evelina's touch screen phone for example housed the technology to eventually become a Starfleet PADD and the touch screen tablets would become bigger, turning into interactive boards that would be installed on the fleets latest flagships.

Leonard became lost in his thoughts and his eyes became heavy. Eventually his head drooped, falling onto crossed arms on the table and finally, he was sleeping.

Just as Evelina was stirring. 

She felt pain everywhere; a dull ache in her ankle, a tight, tender feeling in her throat and her bones felt tired. She saw her book closed on the table beside her and peered over to Jim on the sofa as she heard his soft snoring, but he hadn't moved all night.

Daring to stand, she eased herself from the chair and looked at the door. Sherlock's coat was still gone, he hadn't returned but she wasn't worried; he often ambled off and returned when the moment struck him. 

Then she turned with a slight limp and saw Leonard with his head down on the table in his arms, his shoulders gently rising and falling with each even breath. 

How long had he been there?

She looked between the pair fondly before covering Leonard with a blanket that was folded over the back of Sherlock's chair, taking care to tuck it gently around his shoulders, before she pulled a throw up and over Jim that was usually bundled up at the bottom of the sofa. 

In the back of her mind, she knew Mycroft wouldn't take them back. The attack had put him in a vulnerable situation and he couldn't afford another; he'd spend weeks clearing up the press coverage claiming that something else entirely had happened.

And really, that was okay because Evelina didn't want to let either of them out of her sights. 

They'd made a beeline for Jim and Leonard at the party and she'd called them off, beckoning them to get her instead. 

They'd bitten the bait of course, Evelina was something else, something _different_ and they'd known what she was.

_Hunter._

And, as if someone had flicked on a light bulb above her head, her eyes widened and she snapped her fingers loud enough to wake the dozing pair with a start as she recalled the sneering words of one of the demons. 

"You're up," Leonard glanced at her awkward stance, most of her weight on her good foot as she stood awkwardly. "How're you feelin'?"

"They're being controlled," she said ignoring his question and glancing to Jim who'd pulled the throw right over his head.

"Who?" Leonard gave her a searching look, suddenly realizing there was something soft and warm shrouding his shoulders. "Kid what are you talkin' about?"

"Last night," she gave him an impatient look. "They're being controlled, at least, I think so. One of them told me they weren't told there'd be one of me." 

She slumped back into the chair, wincing at the pain in her bones before she attempted to get more comfortable. 

"And what's that?" Leonard snorted from behind her. 

"A hunter," she said, reaching for her book. "I get rid of things like that; in the words of a race I've come across once or twice, you could say I _exterminate_ them."

Leonard knew that word and hated it. They were a feared race, their home resting just outside of known space. The Federation had issued it a no go area; Skaro was out of bounds. 

"How do you know about them?" he was stood now and sitting opposite her in the other chair, the blanket still around them. "How have you seen them?"

"Baby steps okay?" she glanced up from her book, realising she'd let slip something she probably shouldn't have. "It's complex."

"So give me condensed," Leonard said, wanting an answer. 

She gave him an unsure look but closed her book and set it in her lap, giving him her full attention as he studied her, his eyes involuntarily resting on the bruising on her neck. 

"I'm like you," she said simply. "Out of place and out of time. But out of choice, unlike you."

Leonard's mind boggled with about a hundred questions per minute and Evelina saw every one of them pass across his face. 

"But how did you-"

"Spoilers," she gave him a brief smile. "Best not to ask too many questions, it gets...complicated."

He gave a nod because it's all he felt he could do and he leant forwards. 

"So, controlled?" he asked. "You think someone sent them? Someone knew where we were?"

"I'm not sure," she gave an unsure frown, her face crinkling gently. "Demons talk, they could've heard what happened to you and just turned up to cause a fight. Or someone could have sent them for a purpose."

"What purpose?" Leonard seemed exasperated. "There's nothin' important about us in this time! We don't even belong here!"

She felt bad for him, awful actually. He'd looked like he'd had it together last night when he'd witnessed what he had, but now with that look of sheer horror on his face, he looked as though he was barely holding himself together, that if he let go of the blanket, he'd fall apart on the carpet, guts and all. 

"I'm sorry," she said as sincerely as she could, yet she didn't know what she was apologizing for. "I'm really sorry."

Maybe she was apologising because of all the people, he had to be stuck with her; she tended to make things worse before she made them better, but at least she was really trying here. She didn't have to help, they could've been taken care of in _other ways_ , but she wanted to help and not just because of the threat of demons, but because that look on Leonard's face screamed it.

_Help me._

His head was in his hands, his fingers holding his skull together as he closed his hazel eyes tightly and prayed for it all to go away or just be some silly nightmare because he'd spent too much time in the Georgia sun or drank too much of Scotty's bad hooch.

But when he opened his eyes and looked up, Evelina was still looking at him, a slither of worry in her expression. 

"I'm fine," he said, unsure of whether he was trying to convince her or himself. "I don't understand."

"It's okay, Leo, I know," she spoke gently. "It's a lot to take in."

He breathed in deep and let that soft tone wash over him and the way she'd spoken his name soothe him; her gentle voice reminded him of warm sunlight on his skin, the type of feeling he'd only ever had on Earth.

She reminded him of home in several different ways but he couldn't explain any of them. She'd outright told him she was dangerous but he didn't feel safe without her; not that he couldn't take care of himself because he could, it was that she _knew_ how to take care of him and Jim too.

"You're different you know," she started to explain a little something to him when she saw he was lost somewhere in his thoughts. "You and Jim; your bodies, your DNA, it's slightly different to any of ours. You're more developed I think the word is. Weaker demons can take over anyone. Well anyone without one of these."

She lifted her sweater slightly, showing him the right side of her ribs where another tattoo sat. To Leonard, it looked like a star within a sun, to Evelina, it was a life saver. 

"It's an anti possession symbol," she said, letting the soft sweater fall back on it's own. "It means I can't be possessed. Of course, it's susceptible to damage; if the ink is broken by wound, the magic breaks too."

"What are you sayin'?" Leonard snapped his gaze to her face, not liking where she was going with the whole ' _you're different_ ' speech; it was like being told you were weird by the cutest girl in class which had happened to Leonard on several accounts, mostly in his Academy days.

"I'm saying weaker demons can't survive in you, your bodies burn them out," she said. "Maybe stronger demons can sustain a life in you and maybe someone wants to find out if that's true."

Leonard turned three shades paler and choked out a sardonic laugh.

"You're kiddin' me," he said to the carpet.

"It might not be true," she shrugged a single shoulder. "They might have been there just to cause trouble last night."

"Or someone might want me and Jim for experiments," he grouched. 

"Do you think anyone would want Jim for an experiment?" she said, directing Leonard's attention to the couch where the blonde still slept. 

Evelina turned to Leonard as he looked at his friend and for a moment, Leonard's lips quirked into a small smile and Evelina felt something shift in her.

That smile was a ray of sun breaking through a storm cloud.

That smile was what a secret looked like.


	20. Dyad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dyad; something that consists of two elements or parts.

He'd been ignoring the pull for days now, casting it off like he was brushing lint from the lapels of his aqua blue jacket. 

A high warlock should be asked, not summoned, and Sebastian made it a point not to hand out his cards for the same such reasons. His magic could cast away a summoning, but these were becoming stronger and more frequent, a kind of magic Sebastian had hardly ever encountered before and they were making him weak. 

His magic didn't spark between his fingers, it hardly crackled at all. He was tired and he was annoyed; after all, who dared to think that they could have the high warlock of all London at their beck and call? 

But then came the night when he could ignore it no longer. Sebastian had felt a disturbance, a dark and twisted one, and had stopped by to cast a blue eye over the commotion. 

He'd watched as The Diogenes Club had been emptied of the massacre. Watched the empty vessels wheeled out on stretchers, ichor stained and still; he could smell the sulfur in the air.

And perhaps then the oddest of all.

A ruined dress and limp limbs hanging from the arms of a tall, thin man as he carried a girl delicately down the steps closely followed by three other men. Her head was against his shoulder and from where Sebastian stooped on an opposing roof ledge, he could see resting on her stomach a gun and a knife.

As he gazed down at the scene he felt the horrible pull in his guts; whoever it was, they were summoning him again. This time he felt the urgency, a pain behind his eyes and a sickness in his gut.

This time he let the spell take him and closed his eyes, he let himself be summoned.

When he opened his eyes he found himself trapped in a Hexagram signifying the moon and the air, the things that embodied him the most. 

When he glanced up his eyes found a skinny man clad in a designer suit with a vicious smirk spread across his face. His hands were slung into his pockets and he circled the trap slowly, carefully examining the Hexagram he'd worked so hard on.

Sebastian was knelt in the middle, his eyes roaming the aged marks on the floor around him, his pendants and chains swinging gently as he leant forwards. 

The man circled back to the front, the vicious smile splitting his face in two. 

"I was starting to think those spells weren't working," he crooned, crouching down in front of the warlock. "But I can see from the state of you, they were."

The warlock eyed him with his tired blue eyes and watched the sneer across the other mans face grow as he looked over the warlocks bright attire and noted the worn out look across his face.

If he could move, if he weren't bind in the magic of the Hexagram, he'd have fought his way out; the man was skinny as a twig and Sebastian had no fear of him and showed as much on his face. 

The man did nothing but smile, dark eyes fixed on the warlock. He produced the bloodstained card from up his sleeve, tossing it into the trap so it landed neatly at Sebastian's knees.

"James Moriarty," the man rose to full height, hands slung once more into his pockets as he slowly circled the trap once more. "I'm in need of your services." 

Sebastian eyed the blood splattered card, watching his initials glow in the dim light of wherever the hell he was. 

He really did have to put a stop to handing out those damn cards.


	21. Metropolis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Metropolis; the capital or chief city of a country or region.

Sherlock hadn't returned from his previous jaunt by the time the clock stuck dinnertime and Jim Kirk was still sleeping soundly on the sofa, back turned to the world snoring softly. 

Eva had been on the phone, or rather trying to get off of the phone ever since she'd answered it an hour ago and Leonard could see she was about three more minutes from throwing the damn thing out of the window.

"Anderson, I'm _fine_ ," she said for the thousandth time. "No, I don't know what happened. Yes, well....well there's _some things_ that people aren't just supposed to know. What do you mean I should have told you of all people? Could you...would you...for God's sake Anderson, _goodbye_."

The call was ended abruptly and the phone clattered against the table where Leonard was sitting, dangerously close to hitting him in the elbow. 

"Sorry," she said when she saw how close the phone had landed before she glanced to Jim who'd still not moved an inch. "Is he still alive over there?"

Leonard turned and looked over his shoulder, looking at Jim's curled up form. It seemed odd to see him so quiet and so out of the way; Jim was their leader on the ship, headstrong and sometimes even over confident and now he was just faded into the background with little to nothing to say. 

"He's breathin'," Leonard turned back to Evelina who was still looking at the sleeping blonde. "That's good enough. How're you holdin' up? Let me see that ankle."

Leonard stood and Eva gave him an unsure look but sat down in John's chair all the same as Leonard knelt at her feet. He lifted her injured foot delicately; the swelling was easing and in it's place blossomed a deep purple bruise.

"Not broken," Leonard said as he delicately pressed against the swelling as she winced a little. "Just a nasty sprain. Keep it rested when you can."

Eva was only half listening, her green eyes focused out of the window. 

"I gotta get some air," she said, hoisting herself out of the chair. "I gotta get out of here."

"What about Jim?" Leonard nodded to him. 

"What about you?" she said turning to him with a puzzled look as she tugged on her coat. 

"Well I'm comin' with you," Leonard said firmly. "Like hell I'm lettin' you walk out of here on your own after last night."

She glanced him up and down, clothes dishevelled, eyes red and hair a mess and glanced to Jim who may as well have become ornamental.

"The whole place is warded and protected," she informed him as she pulled on her shoes with a little difficulty. "Jim'll be fine."

\--

Eva led Leonard out of 221B and he followed at her side. He noted that she limped slightly and noted that she had also purposefully left her phone behind. She led him to Baker Street tube station and they passed the Oyster Card back and forth.

"It's enchanted," she said as they stood on the platform. "Never have to top the thing up."

She slid it into her pocket and rocked on her heels and Leonard glanced up and down the platform. It reminded him of the shuttle train way forward in his own time, just grimier and outdated, not to mention their shuttle train was over ground.

"It's warm down here," he said, tugging on the collar of his shirt. 

"Try not to think about it," she answered him as the carriages pulled up. 

An influx of people rushed them on and they stood squashed together for fourteen stops. At the fourteenth stop of Westminster, Leonard felt Evelina grab his sleeve and tug him from the carriages onto another full platform. They elbowed through people, following the exit signs and jumped onto an escalator that steeply climbed up. 

"You okay?" Leonard asked as Evelina leant against the side whilst the escalator carried them up; she'd paled a little. "You don't look good."

"These things give me vertigo," she said, gripping the rubber handhold. "I just need a minute when we get out and I'm fine." 

Leonard followed her out at the top and she stopped, drew a few breaths and looked up towards Parliament where Leonard gawped. Parliament in his time was bigger, spanned more space and even reached out into the Thames. 

The skyline to him looked empty; he'd only ever seen old photographs of London like this.

"You okay?" Evelina touched his forearm gently, following his gaze across the skyline. 

"Yeah, I think," he looked back at her. "I've only ever seen photos of this."

She gave him a fond smile and beckoned him on, crossing the street to find themselves on Westminster bridge. They stopped in the middle and Eva leant on the bridge edge, looking towards the London Eye. With a few deep breaths, Eva closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax; she loved this City.

After a moment she glanced up and down the bridge and looked to Leonard who'd been watching her with an odd curiosity. Big Ben chimed behind them for the hour of 2pm and they both glanced up to the clock face as the bell rang out across the city. 

"Come on," she nudged Leonard. "We'll grab a coffee and stroll South Bank for a little while. Maybe Sherlock will be back by the time we get back to Baker Street. Sound good?"

Leonard looked up and down the bridge and at the busy South Bank; he'd probably seen more people in one space at The Academy, but it looked like more on the South Bank with the way they all swarmed. He'd never be able to experience this again, in fact, he even felt a little bad that Jim wasn't here with them, but he'd had his fair share by being chauffeured by Mycroft's men, it was Leonard's turn to have a little fun now. 

"Sounds good so long as your foots alright," Leonard nodded down to her feet where more weight was on her good foot than her bad. "Is it alright?" 

Eva smiled at her feet and grabbed Leonard's left arm, hooking her own through it for support.

"It is now," she said limping along beside him.


	22. Vexation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vexation; the state of being annoyed, frustrated, or worried.

It had been a pleasant walk by The Thames and Eva had taken him on small tour, but as soon as Leonard started to notice Eva's limp more, he suggested they headed back to Baker Street. 

Jumping on at Westminster, they rode eight stops back to Baker Street squashed back together in the cars of the tube, took a moment to regain themselves at the top of the station stairs and wandered out onto the streets. 

Evening was descending over the city and Eva got a chill as they walked; something didn't feel right in the air and when she looked at Leonard, he looked much the same way.

"Come on," she grabbed his wrist and hurried him along. "Best we don't stay out when we're not feeling 100%."

Leonard didn't object and felt a wash of relief when they turned down Baker Street and hurried to the cafe awning. Eva pulled out her keys and threw herself against the door like usual; it had stuck with the cold again. 

When she did manage to push it open, she tumbled inside and just missed colliding into the large blue box that was occupying most of the lobby area beside the staircase. 

Still holding the key in the door, Eva stared up at it as Leonard stood behind her, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He'd seen this before, this blue box, in children's story books. A story of a man who wanders the galaxy helping wherever he could. 

"This just keeps gettin' better," Leonard finally said.

He turned on his heel, ready to walk back outside to have a minute to gather his head, but Eva turned and grabbed his hand; not his sleeve, or his wrist, but his hand. 

"You asked me how I knew about Daleks," she said. "You asked me how I'd seen them."

She nodded at the blue box and Leonard's gaze followed.

Still delicately holding his hand, Eva pushed closed the door behind her and pulled Leonard up the stairs. She could hear the soft notes of Sherlock's violin spilling from the flat and as they climbed, Leonard looked back at the blue box until it disappeared from sight. 

"It's called a TARDIS," Evelina explained quietly as they reached the top of the stairs. "Time and relative dimensions in space."

She could see an idea flash across Leonard's face but Eva shook her head.

"It doesn't work like that," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. It's too complicated."

Leonard hung his head feeling guilty for jumping to such a conclusion.

"But what's it doin' here?" he asked. "I know it as a story, as in made up."

"Let's find out."

Eva twisted her key in the lock and opened the door to a homely scene. Sherlock was strolling around the living space, violin placed on shoulder as he played a soft melody to Jim who sat on one side of the sofa and a man who sat on the other. 

The man stood as the door opened and gazed over, catching Evelina's eye as Sherlock stopped playing. Leonard recognized the man right away from the descriptions in the stories; the bow tie and tweed jacket gave him away straight away.

Evelina threw her keys aside and the man wrapped his arms around her carefully and kissed her cheek as she squeezed him tight. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked, still hugging him as the other three watched on, Leonard having now joined Jim on the sofa who was watching the scene with narrowed bright blue eyes. "I told you not to come back."

"I had to," the man answered, now gently holding her by the shoulders, staring at her with eyes that were not quite green and not quite brown but also definitely weren't hazel. "Well, mostly it was the TARDIS, but since I'm in the TARDIS I had to."

She gave him a puzzled look and dared to lay both her hands on his chest. Two heartbeats drummed softly under her palms before she lifted her hands and straightened his bow tie.

"You were in trouble," he carried on. "You're still telepathically linked to the TARDIS, she could feel your pain and rightly so, you're in a state."

His eyes glanced at the bruises on her neck but she shook her head.

"I'm fine, really," she smiled before looking at Sherlock. "We're fine."

Leonard watched as the man looked from Evelina to Sherlock and back again but he was aware of the fact that the man was watching him out of the corner of his odd coloured eyes.

"Yes and that _we_ has grown by two," the man whirled on his heel and turned to the sofa where two surprised faces met him. "Hello, I'm The Doctor. Who are you?"

Evelina sighed deeply and grabbed the back of The Doctors tweed jacket and ushered him out of the flat, leaving Sherlock with Leonard and Kirk. 

"They are nothing to do with you," she said leading him back down the stairs to the blue box. "I'm alright, I have this covered."

"You were in a lot of pain," The Doctor led her into the TARDIS and she stopped for a moment, surprised. 

Before the TARDIS was red and warm with springy seats and a beautiful center console with a glass middle, now she was all steel and blue and buttons and consoles with staircases leading off everywhere. 

"You've redecorated," she nodded to the interior. 

"And you're changing the subject," he leant his back against the console. "Who are they?"

"They're from the future and I'm fixing it," Evelina stared him out. "Really, I'm okay."

She crossed the space between them to the console, running her hand over levers and buttons before she circled back to him and his look softened.

"I worry," he said looking at his feet. "This isn't your universe."

"Maybe not," she shrugged. "But I am making it mine. Look, you have enough to worry about with this Clara girl. I appreciate you coming to check on me, but really, I am fine. Just some bruises and some demons, it's nothing new."

"You said they were from the future..." he narrowed his eyes.

"Possessed and from the future," she winced, expecting him to cart off, but he didn't. "I'm handling it."

"I trust you," he glanced at her. 

"I know you do," she squeezed his arm gently. "I got this, so go. Go find Clara and I'll find you when all this is over."

"You'll find me if you need me," he gave her a stern look. "Please, be careful."

He hugged her tight once more, as though it might be the last time he ever did see her and Eva squeezed him back just as hard and left a small sweet kiss on his cheek.

"I'm always careful," she said as she reached the doors. "You be careful."

"Careful is my middle name," he said dancing around the console, pulling levers.

"Goodbye Doctor," she smiled as she watched him.

She left the TARDIS and watched in the hall as it de-materialized with the familiar vworp-vworp sound before she climbed the stairs and re-entered the flat. 

"Gone again?" Sherlock quizzed from his leather chair as Kirk and Leonard looked up at her. 

"No reason for him to stay," she said. 

"Perhaps not," he plucked at his violin strings. 

"Who was he?" Kirk asked. "These weird things keep happening and it's always around you."

"Jim," Leonard half growled. "Calm down."

"No!" Kirk jumped up. "She owes us an explanation, she's keeping things from us."

"And maybe for good reason!" Leonard raised his own voice, startling the flat into silence. "Haven't you heard the sayin' 'what you don't know won't hurt you'? She's tryin' to keep us safe, Jim. For God's sake she's tryin' to keep us _alive_."

Eva and Sherlock looked to one another as Kirk and Leonard glared at each other.

"I'd feel better if I knew what in the hell was going on," Jim resigned himself back to the sofa, firing a glare in Eva's direction as Leonard looked between them.

" _Fine_ ," Eva said, having had just about enough of Kirk's childish temper. "Get comfortable. It's a long damn story and if you don't like it, then that's your own stupid fault for askin'."


	23. Seraph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seraph; an angelic being, regarded in traditional Christian angelology as belonging to the highest order of the ninefold celestial hierarchy, associated with light, ardour, and purity.

It took Evelina a number of hours to stagger through her past and how she came to be where she was now. She explained the loss of her own home in another time line, explained how she'd bumped into the Doctor in a matter of right place right time and explained how and why she was with Sherlock in the here and now. 

"That's your problem, Kirk," she sneered, her eyes pink and wet as she stood from John's chair. "You think there's only you. That you're the only one who matters. Maybe that's how it is in your time, maybe you are number one, but you're not here."

Leonard had stayed quiet but listened tentatively, taking in the information she told and attempted to wrap his head around it and Sherlock had remained seated in his chair, eyes closed lost somewhere in his mind palace. 

With a glance to Sherlock, she grabbed her coat and pulled it on, heading for the door as Leonard followed her. 

"You can't be goin' out, it's late," he frowned. "It ain't safe."

"I'm alright," she shrugged one shoulder, reaching for the door handle. 

She was inked with an anti-possession symbol and didn't now dare to leave the flat without some kind of weapon concealed on her person. 

Giving Leonard a weak smile she took herself downstairs and out into the cold air of the London night. Black cabs passed her as she made for the Underground; she knew exactly where she was heading, regardless of the hour.

At the back of her mind she was thinking over her case and even further in the back of her mind, something wasn't right. When she'd been out with Leonard earlier making their way back to Baker Street, something didn't feel right in the air, in the atmosphere of London.

Something was missing and even now she could feel it. 

Nine stops on the Circle Line the tube lingered at Tower Hill and Eva was lost in her thoughts, eyes staring at the large red circle with the blue line through displaying the name Tower Hill. Somewhere above her was the Tower of London, somewhere closer actually was Tower Hill where executions were once carried out of the highest profile traitors and criminals. 

She then found herself thinking about some of Sherlock's cases; the woman with the pink suitcase and the cab driver with the pills, the time when she'd accompanied Sherlock to the Moors and visited Baskerville. (Sightings of a large hound? How could she miss that?)

She was roused from her thoughts when the carriages rattled on. There was sitting space and Evelina found herself sitting across from a handsome man with golden hair and brilliantly blue eyes. He was humming something that consisted of soft sweet notes and Eva suddenly felt very content and comfortable, her senses drawn to the man in front. 

As the tube rattled towards Eva's destination she became more captivated by the man, but the more she stared, the stranger he looked. She saw feathers, broken and twisted, matted and falling out and the talons of a bird where the mans feet ought to be. 

She scrambled up from her seat, gripping to a rail as she saw the name of her stop outside the carriage window. She glanced back at the man who once more looked handsome with his golden hair and blue eyes; she couldn't believe she'd let herself be almost won over. Diving off of the tube and onto the platform, she turned back to see the man leering at some other woman as the carriages pulled away; she'd seen Sirens in a lot of places, but never on the tube.

She ran up the elevator leaving no time for the vertigo or claustrophobia to set in and welcomed the slap of cold air in the face like an old friend. No matter where in London she was, she always encountered something.

Crossing a road and rounding a corner, Evelina found herself outside of Westminster Abbey. It was beautifully lit in the now full dark and Eva hurried towards the west door and snuck in. 

Passing by the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior she walked slowly down the Nave past the organ gallery, through where the choir would sing and perched on a pew in front of the High Altar. The whole placed was closed to the public but those with prowess could enter, those who were only deemed worthy could open the west door and gain entry. 

She leant forwards, elbows on knees, eyes closed tight, hands clasped together and began to pray as from the rafters of the Abbey, carvings of angels watched over her. 

" _Angel of God, my Guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here,_ " she mumbled the words; she wasn't a woman of any kind of religion but if this was how she had to call upon the higher, then so be it. " _Ever this day, be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide._ "

She peeked out of one eye but the Abbey was still silent. Unclasping her hands and sitting back in the pew, she crossed her arms and gazed up at the angels who gazed back at her. 

"I know you can hear me," she said to the inanimate figures. "Don't make me call on your brothers."

There was a quiver in the air, a shadow against the walls and Eva brought her attention down to the high alter to see a figure standing before it with wings spanning almost the whole width of the aisle.

Had she not always been able to see them, the wings would have awed her. Tawny and flecked with gold they spread from the figures shoulders and rustled slightly before folding in, allowing the figure to walk down the aisle and perch himself beside her. 

"And have Michael come running to your aid?" the figure scoffed. "Nah, you're mine kiddo."

Evelina allowed herself a smile as she looked at the figure. Sandy hair was slicked back from his face and curled at his neck and tawny eyes glowed to match his wings. Of all the angels in all of heaven, someone up there saw fit to bestow her with an archangel.

Although she'd use the term bestow incredibly lightly since he was hardly ever around and the term archangel even lighter, but really she never needed him around. Still, it was nice to think someone was watching out for her, whether he pulled tricks or not. 

"You didn't call for me," he said, peering to her side. "The other night with the demons."

"How do you know about that?" she turned then curiously to him, as one wing stretched out and behind her, the feathers tickling her face. "I came here to tell you about that."

"You're kiddin' me right?" the angels golden eyes narrowed. "It's all Angel FM is pluggin' right now! It's all Crowley this and Lucifer that. That and something about two guys, the vessels are still walkin and talkin apparently. Oh yeah, and the High Warlock's missing."

Evelina sat up a little straighter but didn't let that deter her from passing a little scowl Gabriel's way that made him pull a mock hurt face.

"You know the whole point of you being a Guardian is to protect me," she said.

"Yeah," Gabriel crossed his arms and his wing curled around her a little. "When the protected deems necessary. You pray for me and I come runnin', that was our deal."

She couldn't deny that was right but she couldn't recite that long prayer if she was on the edge of death with not much breath left in her. 

"Don't you think I ought to know something like that?" she raised a brow at him. 

"I thought you might already know," he shrugged, popping a hard boiled sweet that was cherry red in colour into his mouth. "All the supes are talkin' about it."

"It's not Crowley," she stated. "I know that for sure, I asked."

"And you think Crowley, Mr. High and Mighty King of Hell," Gabriel gave her a skeptical look. "Is telling you the truth?"

"Yes, I do, I put him in a trap," she shrugged a shoulder that said it was no big deal.

"Bet he was thrilled," he answered, tapping the boiled sweet against his teeth. 

"Look, he told me that whoever or whatever summoned the demons meant for them to go into other bodies," she said. "The two vessels the angels are talking about? They're from some time in the future, another universe actually. Because their bodies are different, the demons can't survive and they flee." 

"Uh-huh," Gabriel pondered thoughtfully, crunching through the hard candy.

"I have the two vessels back home, they are still alive," she continued. "But it's nothing to do with Crowley and I believe him. For all intents and purposes, Crowley knows when to tell the truth, especially to me."

"And my bro, Lucy?" Gabriel rolled his head to her as they gazed up at the angels in the ceiling. "What about him?"

"Never crossed my mind," she said honestly. (And it was honest, her case was one thing, warring angels was another and also completely nothing to do with her.) "Besides, summoning him isn't such a great idea, bad things happen."

"So Sam gets a broken rib, boo hoo," Gabriel shrugged. "No big."

"Oh no," Eva held her hands up and shook her head. "No. I'm not getting the Winchesters involved. After the Wendigo and the Raksasha, I'm glad I'm in London and they're wherever the hell they are in America with the Atlantic Ocean between us." 

"They could help," Gabriel said. "S'all I'm sayin'."

"Yeah, well don't," she settled back down and gazed up at the angels. "You said the High Warlock's missing. I knew something didn't feel right, like something was gone. I was out earlier, something...something's really odd."

"The magic's missing!" Gabriel stated matter of factly. 

"You don't say," Eva said sarcastically. "So where is he? This High Warlock?" 

"No one knows," Gabriel answered. "Maybe you should find out, use your brain for once."

Eva gave him a sarcastic look and rose from the pew and the protective curve of the angels golden wing. She glanced down at the high altar and back to the angels on the ceiling. 

"I can ask around about the High Warlock," she said. "I know a place where the Supes go."

"You're gonna walk into a Supe place?" Gabriel winced. " _You_?"

"Hey I've got friends in magical places," she said before she looked back to him with a wide smile. "Also high places."

"And low," Gabriel tapped his foot against the floor. "Assuming you think of Crowley as a friend."

"More of an acquaintance," she shrugged. "Look, I better go, I left home on an awkward note."

"I heard," Gabriel slung his hands into his pockets. "Everything okay?"

"It is now," she nodded. 

Gabriel walked her up the aisle, his wings stretched out and casting shadows in the dim light as the angels in the ceiling watched them from above.

"You find anything out, you call on me," Gabriel said as they stepped out into the dark night; Big Ben was chiming 11:30pm. "Forget the prayer."

Without a words warning, Gabriel lifted his fingers and touched the middle of Evelina's forehead and she found herself back outside of 221B, beneath the awning of the cafe below and feeling a little woozy.

"A little warning next time," she grunted under her breath as she regained her balance and stomach. 

Pleased to be inside where it was warm and pleased to see that the lobby didn't include a blue police box, Evelina scaled the staircase and strolled back into 221B to find Kirk curled up on the sofa and Leonard dozing in John's chair.

Walking into the kitchen she found Sherlock sat at the table peering down his microscope. He glanced up and looked her over. 

"You've been to Westminster Abbey," he said before going back to his microscope, sounding irritated that the deduction had been so easy. 

"You're getting insanely good at deductions," she said eyeing him suspiciously. "That or you had Anderson follow me with surveillance." 

Sherlock let out a small laugh and looked back at her before rising from his chair and standing over her with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Whilst I have no doubt that would be incredibly humorous and whilst I hate to admit that I'm not as you put it _insanely good_ at deductions," he reached out to her hair where it fell over the shoulder of her coat. "You have a golden feather in your hair from which I deduce you've visited Gabriel at the Abbey."

"A keen eye, Mr. Holmes," she said looking at the golden feather clasped between the detectives nimble fingers before her eyes flicked to the living space. "How are they?"

"Kirk's been silent all night probably from your earlier talk," Sherlock stated, placing himself back at his work station and resting the feather carefully by the microscope. "Leonard leafed through a few of your books, persistently asked if I would call and make sure you were okay. Eventually he fell asleep, tired out from your walk I assume, unfortunate he didn't do so sooner."

"Yeah well, London does that to you," she said sliding off her coat and sitting at the top of the cluttered table. "You got anything interesting there?"

"Not particularly," he said peering once more down the microscope. "Did your visit prove helpful?"

"Maybe," she said rubbing at her eyes. "When I was out earlier with Leonard, something felt off. I now know why."

"Hmm?" Sherlock muttered thoughtfully. 

"The High Warlock is missing," she yawned. "Apparently that and the demons is all the angels can talk about."

Sherlock sat up from his microscope and narrowed his blue eyes on Evelina, a smirk pulling at his lips as he drew his hands together, fingertips pressed against one another.

"Now that is _interesting_."

Evelina slid from her chair with a smile of her own and grabbed her coat, squeezing the detectives shoulder as she passed him by.

"Goodnight Sherlock," she said pausing at the door. "Don't work too late."

She left him to his work and walked by the two sleeping bodies in the living area. She stopped to pull the throw up and over Jim, carding a hand through his blonde hair as she did so. Now that she'd explained herself to him, she felt a little better and could now forgive his slightly childish ways.

Hanging her coat by the door, she carefully eased the throw from the back of John's chair and laid it over Leonard who slept with his arms crossed and his head leant back into the corner of the chair. She gently kissed his head, glanced back to Sherlock and headed down the hall to bed.

Tomorrow was a whole other day.


	24. Decipher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decipher; succeed in understanding, interpreting, or identifying (something).

Eva found that she couldn't sleep very well that night and as soon as she heard Sherlock head to bed and close his door, she headed out of her room and through into the living space. 

Jim was curled up in a ball, the throw she'd pulled over him now wrapped around him and Leonard when she looked, was glancing back to her, a tired expression on his face as he pulled the blanket from himself and folded it up. 

Passing him a hesitant smile, she wandered into the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea before she heard Leonard follow and close the double kitchen doors behind him. 

"When did you get back?" he asked, perching at the now cleaned kitchen table.

"Couple hours ago," she said glancing at the clock; it was past the realms of 4am already. 

Leonard too glanced at the clock on the wall before Eva placed a mug before him from which wisps of white steam rose and filled his nose with the smell of a strong, rich coffee. 

Eva sat at the top of the table and saw the golden feather still laying on the tables surface. She took it and twiddled it in her grasp, watching it's metallic tones change in the light. She wondered if Gabriel was still at the Abbey or whether he was wreaking havoc somewhere else. 

Maybe he'd be wreaking havoc on poor Castiel; maybe he was pranking the Winchester's this very second wherever they may be. 

"Can I ask something of you?" Leonard asked as he watched her twirl the feather around and around with a smile before she looked at him and gave a nod. "I know you explained a lot of things to Jim, but could you explain more to me? More about the supernatural part of you rather than the interstellar."

She pondered the idea for a moment, blatantly staring at Leonard's disheveled state as he looked back at her. 

"I get the feeling you were doing something supernatural earlier on but..."

"No, you're right," she stopped him. "I was. I went to see um...well, we'll call him a friend, but he's more than that. Maybe I'll start from the beginning." 

Leonard shuffled so he sat more comfortably and Eva pulled some biscuits out of a cupboard and started picking at them as she wondered where was best to start. 

"I might have fibbed a bit earlier," she looked at him apologetically. "I was just a kid when the Doctor found me. About two, maybe three years old. I don't know why he saved me or brought me here and I don't think I'll ever know why. It's probably one of those wibbly-wobbly things he talks about, maybe he knows something I don't, maybe he knows something I'm not _supposed_ to know."

She shrugged her shoulders slightly and pried apart a Bourbon biscuit perfectly before licking the chocolate cream out and dipping it in her tea. 

"He left me at a kids home in America in this time line, this universe," she pointed at the table to emphasize her point. "I don't really remember much about my own universe. The Doctor told me stories, showed me photographs, it's not so different and being a kid that young, it didn't really matter. But I got adopted by these two really nice people, they had a gorgeous home in Sacremento, California and that's where I lived happily for about eighteen months."

Something pained Eva and Leonard saw it on her face. He gave a curious look and laid his hand close to hers, his fingertips close to touching her own. 

"My adoptive dad was a hunter, they couldn't have kids of their own," she said looking at the table. 

"As in deer and game huntin'?" Leonard queried. 

"Oh, no," Eva gave a slight laugh. "That's what we call ourselves. We hunt the bad things. My dad did what I do. Anyway, he was out hunting one night, he didn't come back. My adoptive mother just said he'd probably stayed out at a motel. The following night, this vampire came to our home; it killed my mother and left me." 

Leonard winced and covered her hand with his own, not thinking twice about any repercussions but to his surprise, Eva took his hand and squeezed it tight. 

"My adoptive parents had other hunter friends, there was this couple who lived a few blocks over, they had a daughter who was my age called Alicia," she explained. "Hunters tend to take care of things themselves and since my adoptive parents were really good friends with this couple, they took me in, brought me up as one of their own with Alicia and they brought us up to be hunters. I mean we had a normal upbringing; we went to school but we decided against college. We upped and left and hit the road as soon as we could; the vampires that got my adoptive parents were the first thing I ever killed. After that, we free lanced, wandering from state to state."

A small smile pulled at her lips and she fiddled with Leonard's fingers as if she were remembering something fun, but it faded out quickly.

"After the vampire incident with my adoptive parents, I was, for lack of a better word, broken," she said. "I didn't want to do anything, didn't want to go to school, nothing at all really. And then something changed. Things kept turning up out of the blue, things that made me really happy. Small toys would turn up in my pockets or I'd find candy under my pillow. In school things used to randomly turn up in my locker like my favorite books. Turns out that someone saw fit to bestow upon me a guardian angel."

Leonard gave her a jaundiced look but she slid the golden feather over to him and opened up the palm that had been holding delicately to her hand. 

"He's not just any angel either, he's an archangel," she said modestly. "I don't know why and I don't know how, but I'm thankful I have him. But I'm getting away from the story you asked me to tell you more about."

Leonard touched the feather gently feeling the softness of it against his rough fingertips before he opened his mouth to ask another question. 

"Do all hunters get an angel or are you just special?" he glanced towards her, seeing that she was watching him stroke the feather. 

"I know one other hunter who has an angel," she gave a brief smile. "Like I said, Alicia and I freelanced across the states picking up bits here and there. We got a case in Colorado, I won't tell you what it was, it's a little gruesome, but we bumped into two other hunters there, two brothers, Sam and Dean. I won't get into telling you much about them, it's a whole other story, but me and Alicia, we rode around with them for a little while, big combined effort and all. Anyway, one of the brothers, Dean, he has an angel who'll help him from time to time, he has Castiel."

"You still know these brothers?" Leonard pondered. 

"Long story," she waved her hand as if batting away an imaginary fly. "Lot's of history. Dean and I had a thing for a few years, Sam and Alicia too, but things happened, things out of our control and it forced us apart. I haven't seen them for a while and we don't know where each other is, I just know the Winchester's are somewhere in America; I'm not sure they know I'm in England."

"But what happened to Alicia?" he asked.

"She and I came over here to help Sherlock, he had this weird case," she frowned. "Alicia wanted to get out of the States, get away from the Winchester's I suppose. She didn't handle the fallout of events so well, she just needed to get away. So we came here, got ourselves in on this case. Turned out to be a Crocotta, but that's not important. Alicia didn't like it so much here after a few weeks, but I fell in love with the place. Alicia went back to California, I don't know if she still hunts, or even really if that's where she went. Sherlock's roommate had just gotten married and he asked if I'd like to be a live in and give a hand on some of his stranger cases. I get paid by New Scotland Yard and it's enough to get us by, plus, I kinda like having the responsibility of keeping the City safe."

"So you did all this stuff, worked together for all that time and now nothin'?" Leonard asked. "Rough goin'."

"Like I said, it was out of our hands," she looked at him with an odd look before glancing up and glancing down. "Sometimes the angels and the demons are worse than the monsters themselves. Being a hunter means that you're hardly ever on anyone's good side."

"Demons don't seem to like you very much," Leonard said as he remembered the night at The Diogenes Club. "As far as I remember, they nearly killed you." 

"Demon's don't like anyone very much," Evelina yawned and stood from the table. "Unless you're signing over your soul."

She look Leonard's now empty mug and placed it along with hers into the sink before she turned back at looked at him.

"It's been a long time since I talked about my adoptive parents, Alicia, or even Sam and Dean," she looked thoughtful as Leonard stood from the table and looked at her. "It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would."

He gave her a sympathetic look and rested his back against the table.

"You've had a hell of a life, kid," he said folding his arms. 

"Still got a hell of a life to come too," she said raising a brow at him. 

She gave him a smile and wandered to the door before she turned back around to see Leonard holding the golden feather once again.

"Hey listen," she said lingering. "Why don't you come with me later?" 

"Where you goin'?" he asked.

"I found out earlier that the High Warlock is missing; you know that odd feeling we got on the way back to Baker Street? That's why," she said. "I have a Warlock friend, actually I have a few supernatural friends and I was gonna go see them, see if they know anything."

"You bringin' the angel?" Leonard looked hopeful and Evelina gave a smile. 

"He _might_ turn up," she shrugged, wondering if Gabriel was either A) watching, B) listening or C) both. "Or I might just take you to see him. Let me know later what you wanna do, I'm gonna catch a few hours sleep."

Leonard gave a nod and said goodnight and Eva tip toed through the living area past a still sleeping Kirk and settled back into her bed finally welcoming sleep.


	25. Affix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Affix; stick, attach, or fasten (something) to something else.

Sebastian didn't speak to the thin man, but his blazing blue eyes followed him around the room. The man had scuffed the edge of the trap so Sebastian could move, could get up and walk out if he wanted to, but he didn't.

He remained knelt and staring with curious fear, his shoulders hunched and his knees sore from kneeling on the cold, hard floor. 

"I know you know things," Moriarty stood at the front of Sebastian, fearlessly stepping into the trap that held him. "I wish for you to tell me said things."

"I'm not a genie," Sebastian stated matter of factly, still staring. 

"I know what you are and what you are not," Moriarty's eyes flashed with anger in the dark. "If you do not comply with my askings, you'll meet a terrible end."

"And I suppose you know how to kill a High Warlock do you?" Sebastian relaxed his shoulders, peering up at the man with a raised brow and a skeptical look; perhaps Moriarty was all bark and no bite. 

"I don't need to know," Moriarty turned on his heel and slid something made of shining silver from a table in front of the trap. "This will do nicely."

Sebastian stood then in the center of the holding trap and glanced at the weapon; triple bladed to make a triangular point and gleaming silver. 

"Where did you find that?" he asked inquisitively. 

"None of your business," Moriarty sneered as he clutched the hilt of the blade. "Now, are we going to play nicely?"

Sebastian's fear had calmed somewhat and he glanced around the dim light of the room. There was a heavy smell of copper in the air, of blood and the walls were marked and carved oddly. 

"If it gets me out of this disgusting place..." Sebastian trailed off, brushing down his bright blazer before he bowed. "Sebastian Moran, at your service."

"You'll be more than at my service," Moriarty smirked a dangerous smile and swapped the blade for a pendant he had on the table. "You'll belong to me."

"You really think you, a mortal," Sebastian almost spat the word. "Can bind me? I'm a High Warlock."

"Oh please," Moriarty oscillated his head in a reptilian manner and stood over the break in the trap, preventing Sebastian once more from moving. 

He uttered an incantation, the pendant in his hand glowing, Sebastian squirming as he felt an old and ancient magic course through him.

"I _bind_ you," Moriarty said darkly. "And you will do as I say."

Maybe he wasn't all bark after all. Sebastian felt weakened and sick; Moriarty was obviously not a trusting man and Sebastian's words of service weren't enough. 

"There are two men in London who should not be here," Moriarty walked over the trap to circle the Warlock more closely. "I want them found and I want them here."

"For what purpose?" Sebastian strained to speak, the magic had weakened him and he could feel the malice from his captor coursing through him like a bullet train. 

"They're strong," Moriarty said simply. "And I need them. Well, not me personally, but I have friends waiting on new homes. They're simply dying to be here on our side."

Moriarty crouched by Sebastian and roughly jerked the warlock's head up to look at him. Our side? Did he want the bodies as vessels? He'd have a hell of a job, the vessels he saw coming out of The Diogenes Club had been massacred. 

"Good luck," Sebastian managed a weak and feeble smile. "They're protected."

Moriarty's hand left the Warlock's chin and connected with a deafening crack across his right cheek before he walked away, hunched over the table.

"I've seen them, the bodies you want," Sebastian continued, ignoring the sting in his cheek. "You sent demons to The Diogenes Club, I was there, watching. The demons, they didn't come back to you, did they?"

Moriarty's dark eyes turned on him once again, this time with curiosity.

"They were all killed, I smelt the ichor," Sebastian looked up to him now, blue eyes glaring up to that sharp face as it looked back at him. "There was a girl, unconscious, she had special weapons."

"Hunter," Moriarty glowered through clenched teeth. 

"They're with her," Sebastian said. "They are protected."

"Doesn't mean they're safe," he smirked. "We'll soon see. We'll grab her attention some how." 

Though Sebastian had offered up his services, he only did so to be out of the way. Now that he was bound by magic and malice, he found he didn't want to have any part in this what so ever. 

A little mischief was fine; malevolence was not his style.


	26. Cognizance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cognizance; knowledge or awareness.

As night turned to day, Sherlock woke to find Kirk already awake on the sofa but Leonard still dozing in the chair. He passed him a look as he walked by and pulled on his coat before Kirk spoke up. 

"Can I join you?" he asked. "I mean just for a little while, kinda sick of being stuck in here, no offence."

"Why not join Evelina in what she's doing today?" Sherlock asked as he fastened his scarf. 

Kirk pulled a face that would rival that of a petulant child. He really didn't want to be stuck here again and he'd really had enough of doing nothing but sleeping. 

"I'll take you to Bart's," Sherlock finally gave in. "You can spend the day with Molly and she'll drop you back here when she's done."

Kirk brightened somewhat and pulled himself straight before Sherlock scribbled out a note and left it on the small table beside what once was John's chair. 

_Kirk bored, took to Bart's to spend day with Molly. S.H._

-

It was mid-afternoon before Evelina even got out of bed and she was somewhat happy that Kirk was out of the equation. Leonard still dozed happily in the chair and she left him whilst she helped herself for breakfast, took a shower and got dressed.

By the time Leonard even woke up, it was almost 6pm.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he grouched, rubbing at his eyes. "How long you been up?"

"I didn't wake you because you didn't go back to sleep til about 6:30 this morning," she answered from where she was reading a lore book on the now vacant sofa. "I've been up since around 2ish."

For a brief moment, Leonard panicked when he didn't see Jim in the flat and looked around frantically as Eva looked over the top of her book and over the rim of her glasses.

"Kirk's at Bart's," she said. "Sherlock took him this morning, apparently he was bored. He's spending the day with Molly. Don't worry, she called earlier, she's bringing him back after her shift, Mrs. H will let him in. Now are you gonna get ready?"

"Get ready?" Leonard frowned. "What for?"

"I laid some of Sherlock's clothes out for you," she said closing the book in her hands. "You're still coming with me, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Leonard nodded as he stood. "Sure."

"Good, great," she gave a smile and tossed the book onto a table already filled with other unknown volumes. "I'll let you take a shower and I'll get changed." 

She left Leonard in the living area and retreated to her room, allowing him to find his own way around the flat as she pulled some clothes out of her small closet. The place where they were going didn't demand black tie, but it helped if you didn't look like you'd just been dragged in from the street. 

She'd left out one of Sherlock's older suits for Leonard, hoping that it'd fit him. It was navy in colour with a black pocket handkerchief in the breast pocket and she'd left a black shirt to match it along with a navy tie if he wanted to wear it. 

For herself she picked out a long sleeved wine red skater dress, black tights and lace paneled high heeled shoes. Once she was ready she waited in the living area for Leonard who came out without the tie and the top buttons of the shirt open.

"Will this do?" he said unsurely when he looked at Eva's ensemble. 

She turned and looked him over; the suit fitted, albeit quite snugly, but Leonard looked handsome and fairly smart; he'd even managed to get into the shoes Eva had left out too. 

"Yeah," she gave a wide smile. "You look nice."

"So do you," he gave a nod and Eva grabbed her overcoat before leading Leonard out of 221B.

They crossed the street and headed to Baker Street tube station and hopped on the Bakerloo line, riding to the end of the line before getting off at The Elephant and Castle.

When they emerged into the late evening of London, Leonard couldn't help but be disappointed by the surroundings. A lot of the places looked a little run down, some even derelict and as he followed Eva across roads and down streets, he started wishing he'd stayed at 221B.

"We in the right place?" he finally asked.

Evelina stopped and turned to him, a curious grin on her face. 

"Yeah," she gave nod. "Everything around here is glamoured. It's made to look like this to keep people like me away. It's like a hidey hole for the Supes."

Leonard looked around uneasily, not sure whether he believed her or not. He followed her around another corner and stopped beside her when she stood in front of a large, red brick building that once could have been a pub.

"Look," she pointed up at some curious markings that had been painted above the door. 

From her coat pocket she produced a marker pen and held out her hand for Leonard's arm. He held it out hesitantly and she rolled up his sleeve, steadily drawing on an odd shape before she pulled his sleeve back down and pocketed the pen.

"What about you?" he frowned.

She smiled and lifted her hair up, showing Leonard the back of her neck where a tattoo of the mark she'd put on Leonard showed. 

"Come on," she reached for the worn and old handle and lead Leonard inside.

He followed her down a staircase and through a door onto a bustling dance floor that left Leonard open mouthed. 

"But this place is abandoned," he said in her ear over the music.

"No," she laughed, weaving through the crowd and pulling him along with her. "It's just made to look that way."

She finally found her way to the bar in a far off corner where the crowd was thinner and just a few bodies sat around on stools.

Evelina gestured for Leonard to sit and she sat beside him only to be startled a few moments later by someone resting their hands upon her shoulders. 

The figure was tall, taller than Leonard and even Sherlock with porcelain skin, pink rimmed eyes and honey blonde hair that was combed back from his face. He was joined then by a second figure with the same complexion but shorter than his cohort with dark hair that fell slightly over his face. 

"Evelina," the blonde bowed to her and pulled up a stool beside her as his friend remained stood by his side. "What brings _you_ here?"

Leonard shifted uncomfortably as he looked at the two men and Evelina rose from her stool and gestured for Leonard to take her place. 

"Just popped by for a chat," she shrugged innocently. "No trouble, you know me." 

The two men eased then, bright smiles covered their face and Leonard could see the unmistakable sight of pointed fangs as they did so.

"You brought a friend," the dark haired one looked at Leonard.

"Ah yeah," she nodded. "Leonard, this is Eric and Bill, they're vampires from Bon Temps, Louisiana. Eric, Bill, this is Leonard."

They made greetings with Leonard and eyed him suspiciously but were pleasant all the same. 

"Human?" Bill said quietly in her ear. "Like you?"

"No," she corrected him. " _Just_ human."

The vampires wandered away, leaving Eva and Leonard alone for the time being. Whist Eva ordered them drinks, Leonard pondered something. 

"We're still in London, right?" he asked as Eva put a beer before him. "We didn't zap somewhere else?"

"No we're still in London," she said, leaning on the bar as Leonard remained sat on the stool. "Why?"

"You said they were from Louisiana," he frowned, taking a glug from his bottle. 

"This place is full of magic," she gave him a smile. "Best you don't question how people get here." 

She clinked the neck of her bottle against his own and turned her back to the bar just in time to see who she'd came to see wandering towards her with a large, black wolf at his feet. When Leonard turned to see what she was smiling at, he nearly spat out his beer when he laid eyes on the wolf.

"Don't panic," she assured him, laying a hand on his forearm. "That's Alcide, the wolf I mean. Must be a full moon."

She gave the wolf a loving pat and he sat at her feet as the other figure regarded her with a soft fondness. 

"Leonard, this is Nathaniel Moon," she introduced him to the figure. "He's a Warlock, he owns this place."

Nathaniel stood at about 5"6n and looked almost boyish. He was skinny with a soft, rounded face and a head of mousy brown short curls. A titanium ring shone in a lip piercing and another two shone in his nose as he looked at Leonard from behind a pair of thick black square rimmed glasses. 

"Now this is a surprise," Nathaniel crossed his arms and Leonard saw a plethora of tattoos covering his skin. "What's the occasion?"

"Can we talk?" she quizzed.

Nathaniel gave a nod and led the way to the back room as Eva caught the attention of the vampires and beckoned them to follow. 

The Warlock sat behind his desk and the others, along with Alcide, stood before the desk, Leonard feeling like he didn't at all fit in. 

"I'm here about the High Warlock," Eva said as soon as the door closed. "And anything else you might have heard."

A spark crackled between Nathaniel's hands, bright and golden as he looked at Evelina. 

"We've seen demons," Eric said. "More than usual. And more creatures than usual."

Nathaniel's eyes flickered to the vampires as the sparks danced on his fingers before his eyes moved back to Evelina. 

"I saw a siren on the tube the other night," she said. "Just there, in the open; that's not right, is it?"

"No," Nathaniel answered her. "It's not. The High Warlock went missing days ago, he was last seen at the Eye, I saw him myself. He left no note of where he was going, told no one of his doings. The thing about Sebastian was that he didn't act higher than any one of us, he just was one of us. And now he's gone and we don't know where."

Evelina listened intently as Alcide looked up at her with huge, golden eyes.

"You can't trace him?" she asked. 

"No one can find him," Nathaniel answered her. "No one can feel his magic. It is either subdued or he is simply gone."

"But would he just up and leave you?" Evelina questioned. "Leave his city void of protection? Because I'm assuming that's what he does, or his magic at least."

"Sebastian, much like you, serves a purpose to protect the City. He would not just leave it, leave us, unprotected like this," the Warlock explained. "His magic controls, he keeps things at bay and when things cannot be kept at bay, when they slip through, that is when you take the stand."

"You said his magic could be subdued," Leonard spoke up, startling everyone in the room, Evelina included. "Is there somethin' out there that could do that to him? I mean, he's a High Warlock, his magic has gotta be somethin' else, right?"

"Right," Evelina agreed. 

"It's possible that he could have been taken," Nathaniel entertained the idea whilst drawing glowing patterns in the air. "But who would dare take the High Warlock? No one I know of has magic like that."

"Me either," said Evelina chewing her lip. "And I don't like that." 

"But you will find him, won't you?" Nathaniel waved away the glowing patterns, an air of concern on his young looking face as he looked at Evelina. "We're afraid, Evelina. There are demons and monsters at every corner, malice and evil everywhere without him. We need him back. There is no one to turn to but you."

Evelina gave a solemn nod and turned to leave the back room with Alcide padding alongside her and the vampires with Leonard behind her. 

"Can you do it?" Eric asked as they came back to the bar. 

"Maybe," she said unsurely. "I need to think. But thank you, for the information and all."

Eric gave a grin, fangs and all and Evelina led Leonard back across the floor and out of the building, back into the cool nights air. 

"I don't like being out here," Leonard said as they stood close together outside the dilapidated building. 

"Me either," she shuddered before she glanced up. "Time for you to meet Gabriel."

She called and the angel came in a rustle of feathers, standing before them with a smug looking smile. 

"See?" he said. "Better than the prayer, right?" 

"Easier," she said. "Oh, this is Leonard. Leonard, Gabriel."

Leonard stood opened mouthed in awe of the wings that stretched from the mans back, as golden and as glowing as the feather that Evelina had placed in his hand the previous night. 

"Home?" Gabriel asked.

"Home," she agreed.


	27. Incarcerate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> incarcerate; imprison or confine.

Whilst Evelina and Leonard went back to 221B that night to find Kirk and Sherlock indulging in pleasant conversation, across the City, Moriarty and his new accomplice had moved to another room in what Sebastian now recognized as an apartment block south of The Tower of London.

This room, this apartment he now found himself in was void of furniture but more pleasant than the last. It was decorated and a view of Tower Bridge could be seen from the apartments balcony.

A circular symbol split into four was on the floor with eight curious symbols drawn within and around it which Sebastian recognized. He stood away from Moriarty, idly watching as he crushed and placed things into a large metallic bowl before he lit several alter candles.

He chanted something in Enochian; was he summoning an angel? _Could_ he summon an angel? Perhaps he was underestimating Moriarty's knowledge. 

A being appeared and Moriarty purposely kicked over an alter candle, setting off a ring of fire around the being. 

"Balthazar, I presume?" Moriarty slid his hands into his pockets, peering over the flickering flames as Sebastian drew closer with curiosity. 

"Impressive," Sebastian praised him. "I don't know a lot of people who can do that."

A wicked grin covered Moriarty's sharp features as the angel drew close to the edge of the ring, as close as he dared.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" he gave Moriarty an inquisitive glance. "You're not one of the Winchester's. Actually, quite a nice surprise not to see Sam."

"Be quiet," Moriarty glowered at the angel. "You're going to stay in this ring of holy fire until someone starts to miss you. Until someone comes looking for you. You know what happens if you try to cross the fire."

"Yes, it burns, it hurts and I'll die," Balthazar rolled his eyes. " _Wonderful_."

"Good," Moriarty gave a sneer and turned his back, motioning for the warlock to follow him from thre room. 

"Well I presume I've been ever such a naughty boy," Balthazar called after him. "How long do I stay here for?"

"For as long as it takes."

Moriarty smirked, turning out the light of the room until he was bathed in the orange glow of the holy fire. 

The angel was bait; a hunter would come running soon.


	28. Mythos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mythos; a myth or mythology.

The following morning, Sherlock placed the newspaper before Evelina as she sat at the table, leafing through her journal whilst nursing a tepid cup of coffee. 

"It's the third this week," Sherlock remarked as she skim read the article. "I'm surprised you didn't get on it sooner."

"Little busy with other things," she gave him an unimpressed look over the top of her glasses before her eyes dropped back to the print. "Large scratches on the abdomen, face and arms. All bodies found in Hyde Park."

Sherlock watched as she read to herself and tapped the fingers of her other hand against the tables surface. 

"I've been called to Scotland Yard," he said. "Perhaps you'd care to join me; I feel this case is better suited to your expertise. God knows Scotland Yard aren't that far forwards with their beliefs of the unknown."

"You think they're backwards because they don't believe in ghostly goings on, which in this day and age, isn't uncommon," she said, giving him a jaundiced look. "But I'll say it again; you thought the _sun_ went around the _Earth_."

Sherlock gave a resolute scowl as Eva rolled up the newspaper and slid from the table, depositing her mug in the sink as she passed. 

"I'll take Kirk and Leonard to Bart's to stay with Molly," she said as she stopped in the kitchen doorway. "We can pick 'em up when we go to see these bodies." 

With the rolled up newspaper, she hit Kirk on the shins and Leonard over the back of the head where they were dozing, startling them both from sleep. 

"Wakey wakey!" she grinned at the pair. "Sherlock and I have a case to see to." 

\-----

With a handful of books in her satchel and one clasped under her arm, she and Sherlock made their way into New Scotland yard and rode the lift up to the appropriate floor. 

"What do you think they think it is?" she asked Sherlock curiously. 

"Quite obviously not at all what _you_ think it is," he answered. 

"You don't even know what I think it is," she glanced up at him as he held a door open for her and they walked out onto the hectic main floor. "Or do you?" 

"Hellhounds," he said simply. "The Baskerville case from a few months ago. The victims found on the moors had similar lacerations, the cause I believe was that a demon had lured them there to collect his debts before they were due." 

"You're getting good," she said holding the book to her chest before she stopped him from walking by the cubicles. "Whilst you're right in thinking I believe it is hellhounds, I believe that the cause of the hellhounds is different. It could be a demon collecting debts, but I doubt it. Hyde Park is a public and open place while on the moors there was no one around for miles and miles. Things within the city have changed since the disappearance of the High Warlock; the bad things aren't afraid to come out at night anymore Mr. Holmes." 

"What are you saying?" he frowned looking down at her. 

"I'm saying there is no control over the bad," she said. "I saw a siren on the tube the other day. Eric and Bill said they'd seen more demons and creatures than usual. Things are seeping through the woodwork; what I think I'm trying to say is that the hellhounds are acting of their own accord, there is no one controlling them." 

The detective made a thoughtful sound and led the way across the floor in the direction of the DI's office but Evelina was flanked by Anderson. 

"You haven't returned my calls since that night at The Diogenes club," he said crossing his arms like a petulant child. "Did I do something to offend you?" 

Evelina's shoulder was straining under the weight of the books in the bag she had and all she wanted to do was put them down, preferably in the DI's office. She moved the strap slightly but it didn't give her much joy and she tried to hide the disgruntled look on her face as she looked at Anderson. 

"No, no you didn't," she said fiddling with the bag once more. "I've just been busy, I got this case..." 

"What case?" he demanded. "You've not been here for a long time." 

"I don't work for Scotland Yard," she almost glowered at him as she adjusted and re-adjusted the strap before she muttered something under her breath. " _Though you wouldn't think it._ " 

"Let me get that for you," she heard Higgins' voice behind her and the weight lifted from her shoulder as he took the bag from her. "DI wants you, pronto." 

He guided her away from Anderson, his hand gentle on the small of her back as Anderson followed them both into Lestrade's office. 

"Just Evelina and Sherlock," Lestrade stated when he looked up to see Anderson lingering in the doorway. 

"Good luck," Higgins said quietly, handing Evelina her bag back as Lestrade shooed Anderson out. "Come see me after." 

She gave him a smile and he left, closing the door behind him. 

"Beliefs aside," Lestrade started as soon as the door closed. "What is this?" 

He opened a file, displaying photos of bloodied bodies with torn up clothes and large gouges straight down the torso and across the abdomen. 

Evelina pulled out three books from her bag and opened them on their correct pages, displaying information that Lestrade could scarcely believe. 

"The Baskerville case you sent Sherlock on," Evelina paced the room as she spoke, remembering the information. "There were hellhounds, albeit controlled by a demon. He was collecting debts before they were due." 

"What debts?" Lestrade puzzled as he looked up from the books. "Money?" 

"Souls," Sherlock filled in the blank. "Evelina found that the victims on the moors had made deals, signing over their souls for what they sought. They made a deal with said demon, who would then after a short amount of time, send the hounds after the signer." 

"Crossroads demons usually bestow the signer with ten years to live when they've made their deal," Evelina turned a page in one of the books, pointing to an illustration of a crossroads demon. "They can't collect before, least not usually." 

"Why a crossroads?" Lestrade asked. "Why not just anywhere?" 

Evelina shared a look with Sherlock; the demon wasn't important, the hounds were but the bug of curiosity had bitten and Sherlock took a seat allowing Evelina the floor to explain. 

"Crossroads span mythology," she said. "They symbolize a location between the worlds for supernatural events to take place. Summoning, for example, but none of this is important. I don't believe a demon is playing a part here, just the hounds." 

Lestrade looked up and then between her and the detective. 

"A dog couldn't do that kind of damage," he said with a frown. 

"Because they're not _dogs_ , Detective Inspector," Sherlock said with a deep sigh. "They're _hounds_." 

"They're a supernatural dog, can't be seen by a human unless a human has made a deal with a demon and their time has come," Evelina turned a few pages in each book, every book she had out now showing pictures and information of hellhounds. "If a hound is seen or heard howling, it's an omen of certain death." 

"So you're telling me," Lestrade pulled out the case files from under the books and stabbed a finger onto each photo of the bloodied bodies. "That these people didn't know what was coming to them?" 

"Not until the last minute, no," she said. "Can I take the files? I can find out if they made deals or not, find out if they were meant to be collected or not. I'm gonna go with not, but it doesn't hurt to check, right?" 

"Right," Lestrade nodded. "You can't take the files, but you can make copies, go ahead, then I want you over at Bart's looking over these bodies. Sherlock, I need you to take a look at something in evidence from your other current case." 

All three of them left the room, Evelina's books still on the table and bag still on the floor as Anderson watched them cross the room. With a quick look over his shoulder to see that Higgins was still on the phone, he darted into the DI's office, snagged one of Evelina's books and stashed it in his office desk without giving it a second look. 

Once she realized she was missing the book, she had to come back for it. 

With the copies of the files made, Evelina slid them into her bag along with her books and never noticed that she was one short. Whilst Sherlock was still down in evidence with Lestrade, she stopped by Higgins' desk, perching herself on the table and swinging her legs over the side. 

"So?" he smiled at her, his yellow-gold eyes glinting as he looked at her perched there. "You're on the Hyde Park case." 

"So what?" she raised a brow. 

"So it's weird, right?" he asked, slouching back in his swivel chair half chewing on the end of his pen. "Pretty gruesome." 

"Seen worse," she shrugged before quickly changing the subject; sometimes she forgot around Higgins that there was things she wasn't meant to tell people. "You wanted me to see you anyway, what's up?" 

"Nothing," he smiled, still chewing the end of his pen. "Just haven't seen you in a while. Sherlock keeping you busy?" 

" _London's_ keeping me busy," she answered, swinging her feet as she looked at her shoes. "Funny goings on and all." 

"Funny goings on that you can't tell anybody about," he jabbed the chewed end of the pen into her knee delicately before he sat back up straight to face the computer. "You figure anything about the other thing you were called in for? The theatre bodies?" 

"Maybe," she shrugged, nudging him back with the tip of her shoe as he smiled. "But you know, I can't tell anybody about that _either_. I wish I could; it gives me a headache." 

"You can talk to Sherlock about it," Higgins offered as he reached for some paperwork and once more slumped back into the swivel chair, pen in hand. "You're both working the case, aren't you?" 

"I meant someone normal," she whined, slipping from his desk to land daintily on her feet as she saw Sherlock reappear through the double doors at the top of the floor. "It's more my case, Sherlock's my helping hand." 

"Two more minutes," Sherlock said as he passed her by and followed the DI out of another set of double doors as Evelina sighed. 

"Makes a change," Higgins glanced up as Sherlock passed. "You're usually his; never knew his greatness needed a skivvy." 

"Very funny," Evelina said sarcastically. "Anyway, I gotta get to Bart's." 

"You're leaving already?" Higgins turned his golden eyes on her and Evelina studied him for a moment with curiosity. "Leaving _me_?" 

She rifled around in her coat pocket and pulled out pack of unopened bubblegum that had the taste of cola before she offered one to Higgins who politely declined, putting Eva's suspicions at bay. 

"Just had a new filling," Higgins informed her. "But thanks. So you're really going?" 

"I'm coming back," she rolled her eyes. "Gotta go find some stuff out, then come back and perhaps get permissions to do whatever it is I figure out I have to do." 

"Well, be careful," Higgins stood from his seat and tossed the chewed pen onto his desk. "Don't wanna see your name appearing on a case file as the next victim; it's a pretty macabre case." 

"I'll be fine," she said, squeezing his forearm delicately for assurance. "I'll see you soon." 

She kissed his cheek and hauled her heavy bag onto her shoulder as Sherlock met her at the cubicle and they left the building together. 

"Do you have a plan?" Sherlock asked in the cab as they headed to Bart's. 

"Yeah," Evelina nodded as she flicked through some of the photos and papers she'd photocopied. "It's under the rug in the living room of 221B, Baker Street." 


	29. Torrefy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> torrefy; roast, scorch, or dry (a substance such as an ore, a drug, or a fuel) with heat to drive off all moisture or impurities.

When Evelina and Sherlock reached the Pathology wing at St Bart's, they found Molly in the morgue with two of the three Hyde Park victims laid out on slabs. Beside her, Leonard was gloved up and to Evelina's surprise, actually helping Molly analyze the bodies whilst Kirk sat at the desk in the small office, mindlessly flicking through some medical textbooks. 

"The lacerations are pretty deep," Leonard explained to them as they walked up to the slab. "Molly found sulfur in the wounds too."

"All the lacerations are matching," Molly said as she gestured between the bodies. "Four long, deep lines straight down the torso."

"Definitely hellhounds then," Eva sighed. "I'll go see what I can find out."

Evelina left on her own, Leonard looked like he was somewhat enjoying himself and Sherlock wanted to have a proper look himself. As for Kirk, he'd never looked up from the medical text.

She was thankful to be on her own but as soon as her foot touched the pavement outside of Bart's, she called for Gabriel; she didn't feel safe walking alone whether it was still daylight or not. 

"Where's your entourage?" he quizzed when he saw it was just her. 

"Busy," she looked up at him with her hands in her coat pockets before he tugged the heavy bag from her shoulder. "I'm heading back to Baker Street; could you spare me a couple hours or so?"

"Always," he said as they started to walk towards Barbican tube station. "What's going on?"

"Some grizzly murders in Hyde Park," she said. "I checked out the bodies and their wounds, this far I'm assuming it's hellhounds."

"But that's normal, they're collecting," the archangel frowned as they descended the steps and Eva swiped her Oyster Card. "They travel in twos, sometimes threes." 

"I think there's more than that," she said as they found their way down to the right platform that would put them on the pink line back to Baker Street. "Three mauled bodies in a week? And it's not just the hounds, there's creatures and demons everywhere now. It's the High Warlock, with him gone, there's nothing holding them back anymore." 

"Well, you're the hunter," Gabriel said as he scanned the platform and Evelina peered down the tunnel for the tube. "What are you gonna do?"

"I am going to find out whether the bodies in the morgue made deals," she said as the tube cars rolled up. "If they did and their times up, then I guess I'm wrong and the demons need to clean up their mess a little better. If they didn't or they did and their time isn't up, something needs to be done."

"You're gonna summon a demon?" Gabriel spoke low and in her ear as to not be overheard in the tube car. 

"Not just any demon," she said, leaning on him as the cars rattled through the underground network.

Gabriel rolled his golden eyes with a deep sigh as Evelina smiled up at him. 

"He's done more for us than a handful of other people ever have and you know it," she prodded him playfully. "Although last time we spoke, I was a little shouty."

"You were confused," Gabriel shrugged a shoulder. "Happens a lot."

"Funny," she nudged him as the destination of Baker Street came over the automated tannoy. 

The angel followed her from the tube and into the crowd on the platform before he stood behind her on the escalators. 

"You're gonna bring him back then?" Gabriel asked, still carrying her bag.

"If anyone knows it's Crowley," she said stepping off the escalator and taking a minute. "He's the King after all."

She led him through one last turnstile and they were out of the station and into the evening air that Evelina always welcomed like an old friend. Across a few roads and finally down Baker Street, Evelina led Gabriel inside and up to the flat.

"There's no using your powers in here," she said as she jammed her key in the lock and turned it. "It's warded to hell and back, I'm sorry."

"Least I know you're safe."

Gabriel could see the angel warding marks inked onto the outer frame of the door, but human eyes couldn't without a black light. Inside the walls were spanned with sigils and markings, all invisible to humans but perfectly clear to any supernatural thing that should enter. 

He dumped her bag onto the sofa and closed the door behind him as he watched Evelina pull back the rug to expose the painted on devils trap beneath. 

Within minutes she'd put together the bowl of herbs, lit the candles and dropped in her blood and when she looked back up, Crowley stood before her looking less than impressed, hands slung into his pockets as he studied her with his dark brown eyes.

"Oh, now this better be good," he said. 

"Look, I'm sorry I yelled," Eva held her hands up, her left palm trickling blood down her arm before Gabriel handed her a tissue from a box on the table. "I was confused and I didn't know what I was doing and I apologize."

"Well, there's a novelty," Crowley rocked on his heels. "What is it this time?"

"She got a couple questions for you," Gabriel glanced over at the demon. 

"Oh good, you brought that with you," he loured at the angel. 

"Kinda hard not to," Evelina said, handing Crowley the case files she'd taken copies of. "Can you tell me if any of these people made deals with any kind of demons?"

Crowley took the files and thumbed through them as Evelina broke the edge of the devils trap, allowing him out to sit at the small table in the living space that Sherlock mostly used. 

"All of them," he said, looking up to her where she stood over him. "Why?"

"Hold on," she said. "How long do they have left?"

Crowley turned back to the files; she'd purposely left out the gruesome photos so Crowley was just left with headshots of happier times when they were alive.

"Eight, nine and twelve years," Crowley prodded a finger at each photo in turn. "And I'll ask you again, love, why?"

"Because, Crowles," Gabriel sauntered over from the sofa. "They're all dead."

"And that affects me because..." the demon waved a hand in the air, glaring up at the angel. "Ah yes, it _doesn't_."

"It does," Evelina said, gaining his attention. "Are you missing anything from hell? I'll give you a few clues; domesticated human pet, red eyes, four paws..." 

The demons attention was now solely focused on Evelina and she raised a brow at him as Gabriel shook his head in disbelief. 

"Call yourself a King?" the archangel scoffed with a laugh. "You can't even look after a pack of dogs."

"Call yourself an angel?" the demon returned. "Because you're a bloody long way from home." 

"Stop it," she looked between the pair. 

"You were on about my hounds," Crowley's eyes moved back to Evelina as Gabriel glowered at him. "They shouldn't be collecting the souls of these people." 

He waved a hand over the files she'd given him as her eyes followed his hand.

"Yeah well there's a lot of things happening in this City that shouldn't be," she said. "I need your help Crowley, they need to go back home."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the demon stood as he spoke, eyeing Evelina suspiciously. "Things happening that shouldn't be?"

"I thought you knew everything," Gabriel goaded. 

"The High Warlock is missing," Evelina stood between the pair to diffuse the tension. "They're not afraid to come out anymore; not afraid to cause unnecessary havoc."

"Of course," Crowley looked thoughtful. "The Warlock's magic binds the bad to the shadows; of course things do slide through, and some things have a job to do like my beloved hounds...but more than usual you say?"

"Yes, because there's no magic to hold anything back," she sighed deeply. "You've not heard anything, have you?"

"Not a peep love, sorry," he looked at her apologetically as Gabriel slumped on the sofa. 

"Well, worth a shot," she shrugged. "You'll come and help me won't you? Tonight?" 

Crowley gave a nod as Gabriel wandered into the kitchen, the demons eyes watching him closely before he looked back to Evelina.

"I'll be back at 9:30pm," he said as he eyed Evelina's reading glasses on the table. "Don't forget your glasses." 

He gave a quip of a smile and vanished as quick as Eva could blink. 

"My glasses?" she said aloud as Gabriel sat down with a pack of biscuits. "Why do I need my glasses?"

"Really, kiddo?" Gabriel sighed, with his head lolled to one side. "How do you think you're supposed to see the hounds?"

"I'm not," she frowned. "That's why I need Crowley."

"You got any Holy Oil?" Gabriel asked as he filled his mouth with biscuits and she nodded. "Good, spill a little, light it and scorch your glasses; you'll be able to see them."

"Really?" she asked.

"Dad's honest truth," he winked a golden eye at her and she picked up her glasses, turning them over in her hands.

"You best be telling the truth or you owe me new reading glasses," she grunted.

"The glass won't burn or char and the frame won't warp," he assured her. "They'll just be charmed; no damage done." 

With a last look at Gabriel sat on the sofa, Evelina took herself off to her room to find the bottle of holy oil and a box of matches.


	30. Kindred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kindred;   
> _noun_ ; one's family & relations.  
>  _adjective_ ; similar in kind, related.

I was just after 8:30pm when Sherlock arrived back with Kirk and Leonard in tow. Evelina had eaten already and Gabriel still resided on the couch, watching as Evelina dished out some take out she'd ordered for the boys. 

When the three of them bustled in and saw Eva, they stared. Sherlock only for a mere moment before he gave a knowing smirk, the boys several moments more as they stood in the middle of the lounge.

She knew it was her clothing; the tight jeans, the boots, the plaid shirt and the leather jacket, these were her hunting clothes.

"I already ate but I got you dinner," she nodded into the kitchen as Kirk and Leonard continued staring, much to Gabriel's amusement. "Go sit."

"It's nice to see you back in uniform," Sherlock called from the kitchen. "You've not been on an actual hunt for a while. Also the carpet is askew again and there's a lingering smell of lavender; you've summoned a demon and not just any demon. Your lore book is open on the page for sigils and traps; you always forget the summoning sigil for Crowley, you get them confused. If you summoned Crowley, you've found out information, prey tell, Evelina."

"It is hellhounds and Crowley will be by soon," she said, peering around the door to the kitchen, causing Kirk and Leonard to stare again. "He's going to help me round them up and send them back. Those people that were killed had made deals, but it wasn't their time, they still had a fair amount of years left."

"You'll be back late?" Sherlock enquired. 

"Probably," she gave a half hearted shrug. "I don't know how many there are but Crowley will take them back."

"Each and every one," Crowley's voice came from behind her and she jumped before she turned and saw his smirk. "I presume you're ready, you look just like the good old days."

"Where the hell did he come from?" Gabriel complained. "You said you warded this place!"

"I'm the King of Hell, birdbrain," Crowley cocked his head to one side. "There's ways and means."

"And you used neither," Eva raised a brow. "I didn't fix the devils trap and I crossed through a marking or two to allow you _both_ in here."

The angel and the demon glowered at each other as stares came from the kitchen. Gabriel remained on the sofa with his arms crossed as Evelina led Crowley to the front door. Leonard and Kirk hesitantly stood in the living area whilst Sherlock continued on as normal.

"You gonna be alright, kid?" Leonard asked. "Just, it's late and with the Warlock gone and all..."

"She'll be fine," Crowley turned his dark eyes on Leonard, looking him up and down. "You're the ones she got all shouty about, aren't you? Handsome devils, the pair of you. Shame about the possession though; faces like that can really seal a deal."

"You're not having them," Evelina tapped him on the shoulder after she patted her pocket, making sure she had her scorched glasses. "We have a job to do."

"Evelina, who is he?" Kirk queried as he looked at the man; expensive suit, long black woolen overcoat and a silver and grey paisley tie didn't sit right with Kirk. " _What_ is he?"

"Didn't you hear?" she rolled her eyes as Crowley stood looking smug. "He's the King of Hell."

"So you're Lucifer?" Leonard asked.

"Okay end of conversation," Evelina shut him up before Crowley could retaliate and Gabriel laughed like a child from the sofa. "Out, now."

She shooed Crowley out of the door and turned back to the flat as Gabriel stood and made to follow her. 

"No, you stay," she said holding up her hand. "And if you don't want to do that, head off somewhere else. I'm not having you fighting like moody kids and I need Crowley to send them back. I'll call for you if I need you, I promise. I'll be back when I'm done, okay?"

She glanced to Kirk and Leonard who nodded, Leonard looking worried as the archangel threw himself back onto the sofa, golden eyes scowling as Evelina disappeared through the door.

-

She and Crowley walked quietly for a short while in Hyde Park and Evelina had put on her glasses and checked the back of her jeans for the salt round loaded hand gun seven times. The park spanned a great distance and where the bodies had been found was on the other side of the park to where they were now. 

"You're wearing Alicia's shirt," he commented as they walked. "I remember it."

"She left it here when she went with a few others," Evelina shrugged, not meeting the demons face.

"Have you heard from her lately?" he asked. "I can't find her anywhere try as I might."

Evelina stopped and took a seat on a bench, looking up to the demon who looked back at her. For what she was and what he was, it was a strange situation to be in. Crowley was linked to Alicia's family and Crowley had helped Alicia and Evelina out several times in their hunting days but now that seemed a lifetime ago and Evelina knew Crowley was only here because she reminded him of her. 

"Not for months now, she's married now you know, got a kid too," she said, looking at her feet. "I don't think she wants to be found; even Gabriel can't find her. She called to wish Sherlock and I a happy Christmas from a number that couldn't be traced, sent me a photo of her and her baby girl, Arabella with no return address. I've no idea who she's married to or where she is, but she's happy."

"Well that's news to me," Crowley looked slightly startled. "What changed?"

"She wanted out, she was tired and being around all of this? It does that to you," she gave a sardonic laugh. "She wanted away from the Winchesters and all of their goings on because God knows, they had a lot of goings on. We came over here for a case to get away, but after a few weeks she went back, or at least I think she did. I tried telling Leonard all of this but I had to lie; I can't bare the look of sympathy, the 'I'm so sorry for your loss' look."

"You stayed," Crowley sat beside her. 

"I knew, Crowley," she sat up and looked at him. "I knew it was time for her to stop. I let her go, I let her leave, I can't make her stay and do something that makes her miserable and at least now...now she can have normalcy, she can have a family. And if that means staying away from me, from Gabriel, then so be it; one of us deserves to have a happy life and I'm glad it got to be her."

Evelina stood and drew a long deep breath before she looked down at Crowley who's hands were in his long overcoat pockets.

"And the Winchesters?" Crowley stood and faced her. 

"I don't know," she mimicked Crowley's stance and put her own hands in her pockets. "Gabriel might know but I don't want to know. Castiel probably knows where I am and they don't want to know where I am. It's all for the best, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Crowley said, his breath coming out in a wisp of white. "Those boys were awfully fond of the pair of you."

"Yeah well, the angels and the demons were awfully fond of them too," Evelina took a few paces away from them. "And that's what ripped us all apart in the end. But that's that, isn't it. At least one of us got a happy ever after, right? That's all we can hope for."

Never the one for feelings, Crowley merely stood and looked at Evelina for a long moment with his hands sunk deep in his pockets before she turned away and strolled ahead. He watched after her as he thought about Alicia, now happily married with a family somewhere in the world and the slightest smile came to his lips before he followed after Evelina.

"So this makes you an Aunt," he caught up to her, matching his stride to hers. "And those denim wrapped nightmares Uncles."

Evelina laughed slightly and nodded, looking ahead of her through the glasses.

"You know," she said as they continued up the path. "I bet Al would have made you and Gabriel Godfathers; you'd have perched on that kids shoulders dealing right and wrong like no ones business; poor kid wouldn't need a conscience."

At that, Crowley smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners and Evelina caught sight of it for just a split second; the most feared being in all of Hell was smiling over a human child.

-

When they neared the site where the bodies had been found, Crowley ordered Evelina to keep still and look straight ahead. Being a demon, Crowley could see where the hounds were and when Evelina laid her eyes on them, she stiffened. 

They prowled ahead of her, heads low to the ground as if they were stalking prey. They were huge, about the height of Eva's hip and as wide as the old Camaro she and Alicia used to drive with exposed bones and torn black flesh. With glowing red eyes and long, sharp nails affixed to their claws, Evelina was sure they were what living nightmares looked like. 

"Take this," Crowley had taken off his coat and now held it out to Evelina. "Extra security; they shouldn't harm you since you're with me, but they'll smell hunter. If they smell me there's less chance for harm." 

She slid the demons too big for her coat over her attire, eyes still fixed to the beasts before Crowley gave a high pitched whistle. Evelina watched the hounds ears prick up before they all turned, (she counted seven in total as they looked towards them) red eyes fixing in the direction of the whistle. 

After a second whistle, they began to come towards them, a few of the hounds recognizing Crowley as they bowed their heads down. One of them, Evelina noticed, was several times bigger than the rest and as it wandered over, it stopped before Evelina and lolled its head to one side before it sat in front of her.

Its head came to the top of her ribs, it's crimson eyes looking up at her own as she looked at it from behind her scorched glasses. Its snout sniffed at her as Crowley joined her side and gave the hound a loving pet on the head, the others now behind them in a row with their heads bent.

"This ones mine," Crowley said proudly. "Go ahead, she won't harm you." 

As terrified as she was, she reached out a shaky hand and touched it to the hounds head. It felt leathery beneath her palm and stone cold to the touch. The hound didn't flinch back or try to bite her, instead it bowed its head and allowed her to pet it. 

"Remarkable, really," Crowley said as he sent the hound to join the others. "There's an experience for you."

With a snap of his fingers, the hounds vanished back to where they'd came from before she and Crowley took a quiet stroll around Kensington Gardens to make sure no more hounds were lurking in the vicinity. 

"Do you miss her?" Crowley asked as he marveled at the beautiful flowerbeds in the cold. "The Winchesters?"

"I miss Al every day, she's my family, or was, I'm not sure, but I miss her," she admitted. "The Winchesters not so much."

"Not even Dean?" Crowley gave her an incredulous look. 

"No," she said a little too quickly. "Not even him."

Satisfied that no more hounds lurked in Kensington Gardens, Crowley agreed to accompany Evelina all the way back to Baker Street; what better protection was there than the King of Hell himself?

-

"You girls were such strong headed people," Crowley said as he stood before 221B with Evelina in front of him; it was the early AM now, not that Evelina thought anyone inside was even asleep yet. "What happened?"

He looked at her much the way a father would look at his daughter when she was upset but she ignored it and took off her glasses, sliding them into her own jacket pocket before she handed Crowley his heavy woolen overcoat back.

"We fell in love," she answered simply. "And love makes you do stupid things."

"Not stupid enough sometimes," he answered her as he took his coat back. "Otherwise you'd still be with the Winchesters."

"I said stupid," she said. "Not reckless or selfish."

"Love does make you do selfish things," he said, catching her eye. "You chose to be away from them for your own sake. Alicia only did the same to you."

"That's not selfish," she said producing a key. "That's sensible. That's _safe._ "

Crowley said nothing more as he slid his arms into his coat and Evelina finally managed to open the door without waking anyone in the downstairs flat. 

"Thank you, Crowley," she said as she turned away from the door to face him. "I appreciate it."

"Which part?" he raised his brow with a faint smile on his lips, hands slung back into his pockets. "Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight."

-

When Evelina got back to the flat, Leonard and Kirk were sleeping top to toe on the sofa and the flat was empty. Sherlock must have retired to bed and when Evelina got into her room, she found Gabriel dozing on her bed.

Careful not to disturb him, she moved to her desk and opened the draw, lifting out the photo Alicia had sent her of her and her baby girl. 

She smiled fondly, tracing her fingers over the glossy surface before she placed it back in the draw, closed it and fitted herself into the gap beside Gabriel on the bed. He stirred slightly and unfurled one great, golden wing before coiling it around her and resting his head on top of hers.

She closed her eyes that night thinking of Alicia and her family and allowed that to be a reminder to her as to why she still hunted.

She wanted to make the word safe; she wanted to make it safe for them.


	31. Visitant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> visitant;  
>  _literary_ ; supernatural being or agency; an apparition.  
>  _archaic_ ; a visitor or guest.

Gabriel woke before Evelina did the following morning and found her curled into his side in a cave of golden feathers. She'd not changed when she'd gotten in, all she'd done was pull off her jacket and cast it to the floor; she even still had her boots on. 

He looked at her fondly, careful not to move his wing and wake her. Crowley had kept his word, she was fine with no harm done and the angel wondered what would be on today's agenda as his eyes moved around her cluttered room. 

-

It was another hour before Evelina pulled herself up and out of the warm confines of Gabriel's wing, half asleep on her feet as she collected a change of clothes and headed for a shower. When she returned she dried her hair, put on some make up and beckoned Gabriel into the living space where Sherlock was now also up and the Kirk and Leonard were stirring on the couch.

Kirk and Leonard looked at her in surprise as she crossed the lounge to the kitchen to make a drink, but Sherlock never looked up from his morning paper.

"What?" she finally asked as she sat at the small table with her coffee in front of Gabriel. 

"Just," Leonard rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "We didn't expect you back so soon."

"I got in at like half two this morning," she shrugged. "Not that either of you would know being dead to the world and all."

She thumbed through the papers she'd brought back from Scotland Yard and finished off her coffee before she stood and gave the angel a pleasant smile.

"Besides," she said to the quiet of the flat. "I gotta get back to Scotland Yard and tell Greg to close this case."

"All of them are gone?" Sherlock asked from behind his paper. 

"All seven of them," she answered. "All prowling around Kensington Gardens. Anyway, I'll try not to be too long, I need to read more into this High Warlock, I wanna see Nathaniel again later, get some more information."

She grabbed her coat and stuffed the papers into her now empty bag before Gabriel followed her to the door and Kirk and Leonard looked at her expectantly but she shook her head.

"I'm only going to Scotland Yard," she smiled at them. "But I promise when I get back we'll do something okay? We'll go out, you can be tourists."

With reluctant nods, both of them settled back into the couch and Gabriel walked with her out of the flat and out into Baker Street before he lifted his hand that she batted away.

"It's a nice morning," she said, taking his arm. "The tube will do."

-

Gabriel didn't accompany her into Scotland Yard and instead perched on a bench outside chewing on a collection of saltwater taffy whilst she went about her errands.

On the main floor she managed to escape Anderson who was on the phone and dove straight into the DI's office before closing the door behind her.

"All taken care of," she assured him, returning to him even the photocopied copies of the files. "Although the press release is entirely up to you."

"No more bodies?" he asked. "Creatures?"

"No bodies, no hounds," she said. "There's creatures everywhere."

"Something I try not to think about," he sighed deeply, collecting the copies of the files together. "There will be a cheque in the post, thank you again, Evelina."

"You don't have to thank me," she shrugged. "But thanks for the cheque. And good luck with the press release."

She nodded a goodbye at him and left his office, walking by Higgins' desk to say hello, but his desk was empty and tidy. 

"He's not in today," Anderson crept up behind her. "Sick I think."

"Huh," she mused and turned around. "No mind, just wanted to say hi."

"You closed the Hyde Park case," he said fidgeting with his hands. "Congratulations."

She shrugged it off and watched as he fiddled with his hands; he wasn't usually fidgety and he wasn't looking at her when he spoke.

"I gotta go," she said. "If Higgins turns up, tell him I said hi."

Anderson gave a curt nod and wandered off without so much as a goodbye and Evelina frowned after him; must be one of those days. 

She rode the elevator down and wandered out of the building seeing that Gabriel was right where she left him, still chewing on saltwater taffy. She pulled him from the bench and took his arm as they strolled. 

-

When they got back to 221B, Evelina found an unwelcome surprise staring at her from half way up the stairs to the flat. She froze where she was and studied the face, the expression unreadable as the being came towards her.

Hands grabbed her coat and pulled her through the door before pushing her up to the wall by the stairs, a hand now around her throat.

"Nice to see you too, Cas," she croaked.

"Where is Balthazar?" he demanded.

"How about you put her down Cas?" Gabriel said from behind him. "And we can talk about this."

It was clear to see that the other angel was in no talking mood and with a flick of his other wrist, he'd sent Gabriel out of the front door and closed it behind him. He threw Evelina harshly to the floor, her elbow catching the bottom step as she tried to scramble up them, but Castiel only pulled her back, this time clipping her on the right side of her face and splitting her lip.

"Where is Balthazar?" he towered over her, keeping her pinned to the stairs, his hand once more around her throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about Cas," she rasped, trying to kick at the angel and pull his hand from her neck. "I really don't."

"Balthazar is missing," his grip tightened on her neck. "He is missing here, in London. Where is he?"

Evelina could feel the twinge of pain from past bruises where the angel was gripping her and she struggled against him.

"I don't know!" she kicked out again and made contact, but Castiel didn't flinch.

"You should!" he argued. "He's missing in your territory!"

"London isn't solely mine!" she reached out for his face but he pushed her arms back. 

"I'll ask once more," Castiel put his face up to hers, his blue eyes glinting. "Where is he?"

A thunder of feet came down the stairs as Leonard and Kirk paused at the top, seeing the angel pinning Eva down to the stairs. Just as they were about to reach out, a vibration was felt in the air and Gabriel appeared with two figures at the bottom of the stairs.

"Cas!" 

A gruff voice spoke his name before two pairs of hands grabbed the angel by the shoulders and pulled him off of Evelina who turned over to wipe the blood from her split lip. 

"What the hell is goin' on?" Leonard demanded. "Are you alright?"

"It's alright," she rested a hand on Leonard's arm in a reassuring way. "I'm alright."

"What do you think you're doing?" the voice spoke to the angel like a child. "Miss I'm so sorry, he forget to take his crazy pills this morning and..."

The voice trailed off as Evelina sat herself up on the stairs and Gabriel sat beside her, looking over the split lip with the other two behind her staring at the scene before she turned her attention to the man, looking like a rabbit caught in headlights. 

"Sorry kiddo," Gabriel apologized. "I had to, he wouldn't listen to me and well, he is his angel..."

Evelina stared for a long moment, the blood drying on her lip as she stared at the body belonging to the voice. He'd aged slightly, more lines around his green eyes, but his hair was the same light brown and the same cropped style, his lips still perfectly soft and perfectly pink. 

He stared back, his lips slightly parted, eyes wide as if he were trying to decide something.

"Are you kidding me, Cas?" he turned his attitude to the angel. "What do you think you're doing?"

Evelina quickly turned her attention to her feet as the pair began to bicker.

"The angel is missing here!" Castiel made his point by raising his voice. "She is a hunter here! She would know."

"I'm not tuned to Angel FM, Feathers," she glared over at him. "And do excuse me if I'm a little busy with less celestial matters. Balthazar's a big angel, he can look after himself."

"That is not the point," Castiel glowered back. "Gabriel should have told you."

"Um, Gabriel doesn't always listen," Gabriel spoke up. "You guys whine like there's no tomorrow."

Evelina scoffed and pulled herself up, descending the last few stairs to stand face to face with the angel who was about the same height as her.

"I know you're an angel," she looked him up and down. "But it's human etiquette to at least say hello before you punch someone in the face."

Castiel narrowed his eyes and studied her face, hair and clothes.

"You've aged," he said.

"Thanks Cas," she answered. "Good to see you too."

She looked past the angel to Dean and expected to see Sam by his side, but instead she saw the stringy figure of Gath who smiled back at her. Passing a look to Dean, he looked at his feet before glancing to Castiel. 

"Upstairs, now," she turned to Leonard and Kirk who were still by Gabriel. "I'll be up soon."

Gabriel gave her an understanding nod and led the two upstairs who looked slightly concerned. Evelina passed a look to Castiel, Dean and then Garth as they stood in the lobby. 

"Balthazar is-"

"I don't wanna know, Cas," she held up her hand. "Tell me later, follow your brother upstairs. Garth, would you mind?"

Evelina looked at him and he bowed his head in understanding. 

"It's good to see you," he smiled. "It's been a while."

She squeezed his arm gently as he followed Castiel up the stairs, following Gabriel's footsteps as they left Evelina and Dean in the lobby space looking at one another.

"Hi," she looked up at him hesitantly. "Not dead then?" 

"Not dead," Dean clarified. "Not lost, missing or dead?"

"None of the above," she answered.

She gave a smile even though her eyes were filling with tears. She imagined that she'd be angry in this moment, that she'd hit and scream and shout but instead she felt happy and sad at the same time.

"You never called," she said after a moments silence. "You never told me you were alive. It drove me insane, so much so that I had to ask Gabriel because I couldn't hack not knowing."

"I'm sorry," Dean took a step back, running a hand through his short hair. "Eva I'm so sorry. I just...I just though it'd be better this way. That I wasn't dragging you into anymore crap because you deserve better than that."

"You're so stupid," she laughed a little but a tear slid down her cheek. "Don't you think I'd have wanted to know you were still alive?"

"I thought it'd be easier for you if you thought I wasn't," he looked at the floor. "Sam didn't see it the same way."

"Where is Sam?" she frowned a little. "Why are you with Garth?"

"You don't know about Sammy?" 

It was Dean's turn to be puzzled. 

"He got married Eva," he said. "To Alicia. They've got a kid."

Evelina had to sit down on the bottom step to get her head together. 

"I know she's married and has a kid," she said. "But she didn't tell me it was to Sam. She didn't mention anything."

"Sammy wasn't gonna tell me it was Alicia," he said sitting beside her. "And I'm not allowed to know where they are, which I guess is fine. They don't want hell turning up on their doorstep, I get that."

"Are you okay with it?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Sam's happy, I'm fine," he answered. "What about you?"

"Al got her happy ever after," she answered. "I'm glad it was her."

A silence washed over them where they both just stared at the bottom step before Eva stood and smoothed out her clothes. There was a spot of blood on her shirt and her neck was throbbing with pain. 

"So, Balthazar," she said as Dean stood too. "What's going on there?"

"I don't know," Dean looked up at her. "Cas just vanished in a hurry and then Gabriel brought me and Garth here. I had to leave my baby in a motel parking lot."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Eva smiled before she motioned for him to follow her up the stairs. 

As they walked, Dean noticed she passed 221B and headed up another flight of stairs. As she got half way up, Dean opened his mouth and stopped her from walking by grabbing her wrist.

"Hey Eva?" he said. "For what it's worth, I missed you. Cas is right, you have aged, but you look good."

His touch to her wrist made her flinch for a moment but she turned to him and looked over his face, his cheeks were still dusted with tiny faint freckles, his eyes still brilliantly green. She smiled for a moment and placed a kiss to his cheek.

"I missed you too, Freckles," she said.

She slid her wrist from his hand and took it in hers before leading him up to the flat above.

"This was mine and Al's," she said unlocking the door. "I keep my books and some other stuff in here but you and Garth can have it for the time being. I live in 221B with Sherlock now."

"We're staying?" Dean questioned.

"I imagine Cas wants you to help me find Balthazar," she shrugged. "It's yours if you want it."

"Who are the other two guys?" he asked as they walked into the flat. 

"Really big and really long story," she sighed with a slump of her shoulders. "It's a case I'm working. I'll tell you more later. I'll send Cas and Garth up and I'll come see about Balthazar later on. I made a promise I have to keep okay?"

"You were always good at keeping promises," he mused. 

"I'll be downstairs if you need me," she took the key for the flat off of the key ring and pressed it into Dean's palm, squeezing his hand as she did so to make sure he was really there. "I'll see you later."

She left him with a parting smile and headed out of the flat and down the stairs. She took a moment at 221B to collect herself, willing herself not to fall apart.

She hadn't realized just how much she had missed Dean until she'd seen him again.


	32. Bedlam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedlam;  
>  _noun_ ; a scene of uproar and confusion  
>  _archaic_ ; an institution for the care of mentally ill people

Kirk watched when Evelina walked back into 221B, talking to the stringy looking man and the other in the trenchcoat before they left the room and Evelina turned back to them, the biggest false smile splayed across her face.

"I'll be two seconds okay?" she said, tossing her keys onto the small table. "I'll just change and we can go."

Leonard went to question her but Gabriel held him back gently to the sofa as the pair of them looked up to him. 

"There are things here right now that you couldn't even begin to understand," Gabriel told them both. "For your sakes and mostly for hers, don't ask about those men or what they do or why they're here. Don't question her if she spends more time up there than down here but do appreciate everything she is trying to do because this is going to be very, very difficult for her, understood?"

"I don't trust her," Kirk said as Leonard kept quiet.

"She's not asking you to," Gabriel folded his arms, studying the blonde. "But if you think you can survive out there by yourself after everything you've been through then walk through that door and don't come back because if you turn away from her, she won't take you back."

Evelina returned fresh faced with her coat buttoned around her and smiled pleasantly at all three of them. Leonard returned the smile and followed her to the door but Kirk turned another look to the angel.

"You comin'?" Leonard turned to see Jim still sitting there.

"No," he answered still looking at the angel. "I'm staying." 

"Suit yourself," Evelina said. "But you can't leave this flat."

"Fine," he turned to her. 

Gabriel glowered at the blonde and wandered after Evelina and Leonard as she closed the flat door behind her. Gabriel gave it an invisible marking so that Kirk couldn't leave and bother the upstairs occupants before he turned to Evelina who knew exactly why Kirk wouldn't leave. 

-

They were about half way around the tour of London when Evelina's cell rang in her pocket. Excusing herself from Leonard and Gabriel she stood at the bank of the Thames looking towards St. Paul's and answered. 

"I need you to come to Scotland Yard," Sherlock answered. "It's urgent."

"Again?" she sighed deeply. "I got things to do myself."

"It's incredibly urgent," Sherlock stressed as Evelina turned back to Leonard and Gabriel who were marveling up at the Eye; Leonard actually looked happy. 

"Police urgent or supernatural urgent?" she sighed. 

"Both," he answered. 

"Okay," she answered a little lost. "Guess I'll get told when I get there."

The line fell dead and Evelina harshly stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

"Sorry, tours over," she said miserably. "I'm wanted at Scotland Yard again."

"I'll take care of him kiddo," Gabriel assured her without even asking why she was wanted. "Go on."

"Please do," she said. "He's important."

She gave Leonard a warm smile, even thought about hugging him but she darted off, weaving through the crowds to catch the tube.

-

Greg was sat behind his desk when Evelina walked in with an expression laying somewhere between anger and sadness. Anderson and Sherlock sat in front of his desk, Anderson clutching a leather bound book on his knee not even daring to look up at Evelina when she stood between them.

"This better be something important, Detective," she laid a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "I have other things to take care of."

"Why don't you tell her, Anderson," Lestrade sat forwards, flinging a pile of papers on his desk with a crack. "Since this is your bloody fault."

"Perhaps," Sherlock rose from his chair and offered it to her. "You ought to sit down."

Evelina sat, looking uncomfortably between the three of them as Lestrade stared at Anderson and he stared at the floor.

"Well first," Anderson didn't look at her when he spoke. "This belongs to you."

He held out the leather book and Evelina snatched it from his grasp, pawing through it to make sure all its contents were still there.

"What the hell are you doing with my journal?" she demanded. "Where did you get this?"

"I found it," he said.

"You _stole_ it," Lestrade corrected him. "From my desk when Evelina was here explaining something to me. But do carry on Anderson."

Anderson remained quiet so instead, Sherlock took over.

"Anderson read something in your journal about spirits and death echoes," he informed her. "He decided that he wanted to take Higgins up to Cane Hill to see some ghosts, only Higgins hasn't reappeared yet."

Evelina paled and stood from her chair, her journal clasped tight in her hand. 

"You don't mess with things like this," she said calmly.

"Well it's not bloody real!" Anderson turned to look up at her. "Everybody knows they're just stories." 

"He went missing last night?" she asked. "That's why he wasn't here earlier isn't it?"

"Yes," Lestrade nodded. "Anderson only just decided to tell me."

"You've no idea what you might have done," she turned back to Anderson, her knuckles white where she gripped the book. "You don't anger spirits and if you've left him in a place where he can see death echoes, they can be traumatizing. Don't ever touch my stuff again."

She turned on her heel and left him in the office with Lestrade as Sherlock strode after her.

"Where is Cane Hill?" she asked.

"In the Borough of Croydon," he answered. "You'd be better driving; I imagine you can't bring Higgins back on the tube in that state." 

"I don't have a car," she looked up to him before he produced a key from his pocket. "Who's is that?"

"Unmarked police car," Sherlock handed her the key. "White BMW parked in bay 9 equipped with Sat Nav so you won't get lost and police radio to keep the DI informed if you need back up."

"I don't know what to say," she said twiddling with the key ring. "Thank you. Can I take you back to Baker Street?"

"I'll decline," he answered. "I have some lab work to sort. Are you okay? Your lips split, you've been fighting."

"Yep," she answered shortly. "Oh and when you get home, be advised, there's new tenants in 221C. Ask no questions. Although you're you so you probably don't need to."

"You're babbling," Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "That's a tell tale sign of nervousness which tells me those new tenants are people you know and you're nervous about them being there."

"Stop it," she gave him a frown. "I have it under control."

"Perhaps I'll see you later," he said.

"And perhaps not."

She turned on her heel, her journal under her arm as she jangled the key to the car. After a little wandering around the small bay area, she located the BMW programmed the Sat Nav for Baker Street and headed back to collect up some supplies.

-

When she got back, Gabriel was back with Leonard and along with Kirk they watched her wander the flat and throw weapons and other objects in a duffle bag.

"Holy water? Salt? What the hell is this?" Kirk picked up a plastic pot with a goopy red liquid in it. 

"I'd put that down," Gabriel advised. "It's lambs blood."

Leonard fought back a laugh as Kirk placed the pot down and wiped his hands on his trousers before he placed himself back on the couch as Evelina disappeared to change her clothes.

Once she was changed, she hoisted the duffle on her bag and grabbed the flat keys and the car keys. 

"Don't wait up okay?" she looked at Leonard in particular. "And don't worry, I'm gonna be okay. And well, if I'm not, you're a doctor."

She gave a smile and Leonard shook his head, crossing his arms.

"I'm joking!"

She dropped the bag to her side and gave him a hug, grazing his cheek with a delicate kiss before she did the same to Gabriel and just gave a look to Kirk who didn't seem interested in her joking attitude. 

"I'll be back whenever," she said. "Gabriel is gonna stay here til I get back anyway, have fun."

She left the flat and locked the door behind her before taking herself up to 221C; she wasn't going to readily admit it but she didn't much fancy Cane Hill on her own; she hated the death echoes.

Knocking twice, she waited for a moment before Dean came to the door and looked at her from head to toe.

"Fancy making like two hundred bucks to take back home when you're done?" she said. "I'll give you half my pay check if you help me."

"What's goin' on?" he asked, looking at the duffle on her shoulder. 

"There's a cop missing at Scotland Yard," she answered. "I think he's trapped at Cane Hill."

"What's Cane Hill?" he frowned, pulling on a coat. 

"Old abandoned mental asylum," she said rocking on her heels. "Looks _fun_."

"Couldn't be a toy factory or a candy shop," he said, walking out of the door. "Great."

"Garth not here?" she puzzled as he walked down the stairs ahead of her. 

"He and Cas went out," he answered. "Decided I needed some space."

Evelina let that comment hang in the air as they reached the lobby; no use getting into the past when the present demanded their presence. 

"You sure you wanna do this?" she asked unlocking the car.

"No," Dean said looking at the pristene white car; what the hell was this thing? "And I know you don't really need my help either, I just know you're afraid; I know that look Eva."

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes as she closed the boot with the bag in.

"What the hell is this?" he gestured to the car. "It's so... _new_."

"An unmarked cop car, I know, I don't like it either," she said. "I miss the Camaro, now get in, it's getting dark."

Dean did as he was told, allowing Eva to program the Sat Nav before he pulled on his belt.

"You think you could avoid banging up the bumper on this one?" he turned to her as he grinned.

"One time I did that," she said as they set off. " _One time_."


	33. Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seek; attempt to find something

After battling the traffic of London, it was nightfall when they reached Cane Hill. The white of the car stuck out like a sore thumb against the thickets and overgrown bushes as Evelina rolled right up to the front door. 

"Are you sure this is the place?" Dean peered up through the windscreen. 

"Creepy, old and abandoned?" she turned to him as she cut the engine. "I'm sure."

Dean saw a strange look pass over her face, a slight look of fear in her eye before she too turned her attention to the old building beside them.

"What is it with you and abandoned places?" Dean questioned. 

"They just give me the heebies," she shrugged.

"No, come on Eve's, I know you better than that," he said, settling back into his seat slightly. "You got some really odd fears, like for instance, you freak out about roadside attractions."

"I just don't like them," she said, popping the boot with a button on the dash. 

Dean watched as she got out of the car and closed the door behind her before she opened the boot and he followed after her. She handed him a few weapons and took a few for herself before closing the boot and turning on her flashlight. 

"Remember the Rawhead?" she suddenly said. "When you got electrocuted?"

"Yeah," Dean said suspiciously. 

"That was in an old abandoned house," she said as she led him forwards. "And what Sam suggested after?"

"The faith healer," he said, turning on his own flashlight as he followed on. 

"That was a roadside attraction," she said, stopping a few paces from the door. 

"So..." Dean trailed off.

"Nevermind," she sighed irritably. 

"I'm surprised you haven't gone all Fight Club on me," he said, taking a step back just in case. 

"There's still time," she answered. "But right now, I need your help. Best we don't bring up the past just yet."

"So you are mad," he said looking around him. "Did you even miss me?"

"Not now, Dean," she said, feeling the knot tighten in her stomach. "Not here."

For a moment, Dean stared at the back of her head, willing her to turn around but she didn't. She took a few steps forwards and glanced around her for any markings or traps

"You coming?" she asked over her shoulder. "Or are you gonna stand there and pout until I get back?"

"Like you'd go in there on your own," he said joining his side.

"My friend is in there somewhere," she said, loading her gun. "You wanna bet on that?"

A light rain began to fall and a cold, biting wind snagged at their exposed skin. They hurried up the flagstone steps to the front door that was all boarded up. They both exchanged a look, set down their flashlights and curled their fingers around the wood.

"On three," Dean said before he counted.

The wood creaked and moaned and finally bowed and splintered in the middle, coming free of its fixings before they did the same to the next three pieces that revealed the doors into the place. Dean made light work of kicking the door in with a sound that resonated through the whole place. 

They edged through the doors together, aiming their flashlights in opposing directions. The whole place smelt damp, the floor covered in old plaster and stones and part of the roof was missing. 

"Homely," Dean said quietly. 

The area in which they walked looked like an old waiting room and corridors led off every which way. In front was an old wooden staircase leading up to other wards and an old disused elevator sat by the nurses station. 

Everything was covered in grime, the chairs were broken with their legs twisted into rusted shapes and covering the floor with everything else were shredded pieces of old medical records. 

Dean led the way forwards and up the staircase that creaked under their weight; Dean had his gun held up in front of him, Evelina following on behind him carefully, watching where she put her feet. A small balcony looked out over the waiting area when they reached the top but Dean turned down a corridor with what looked like cell doors lining the walls. 

Evelina reached forwards and unlatched the first door allowing Dean to follow her inside. In the middle of the room was the rusting metal frame of what was once a bed, and the remnants of a ceiling fan hung crooked from the ceiling with nothing else in the room save for the frosted, partly shattered window. 

And then it happened. The flicker of a figure; the death echo of what Eva presumed to be a patient. A pretty young woman with wavy hair to her waist and tears staining her face. Dean watched her closely as Eva stood half hidden by his shadow. The bed sheet was rolled and twisted tight and the ceiling fan was off. One end was tied around the fitting, the other about to become a noose. With her feet on the end of the bed, the young woman placed the other end of the sheet around her neck and stepped off the edge. 

Dean turned the other way and Evelina ducked out of the room not wanting to bare witness to it. She'd seen death echoes before, always ghastly and always awful. 

She caught her breath on the landing as Dean came out and stood beside her, back resting against the wooden railing.

"You okay?" he asked, looking her up and down. 

"Yep," she answered shortly. 

The wooden banister gave a wail and gave and as Evelina reached for Dean's arm, she went over with him, Dean landing on his back, Evelina on her front. They narrowly missed landing on the warped chairs or the small reception desk, but Evelina felt stinging in her face and left hand, her right arm was slung over Dean.

As Dean pulled himself up carefully and helped Evelina to sit up, they heard footsteps coming towards them. Evelina looked up to the now broken balcony to see a figure standing there, smirking down at them before Dean gently tensed his hand around her arm.

"Higgins isn't here," the figure on the balcony sing songed. "See to them."

Three other figures circled them where they sat and the figure vanished from the balcony, heading back down the corridor of cells, whistling to himself. As the figures beckoned on them, Dean saw the flash of black eyes, fumbled for his gun and planted a round in each.

"Up, Eve, get up," he pulled her to her feet. "They're demons."

At the sound of the gunshots, the man turned back around and glanced over the balcony to see the lifeless bodies of the three he'd set on the hunters as they stumbled through the front door back to the car with their injuries. 

"Well, that just won't do," the man turned his head in reptilian manner. 

Outside, Eva and Dean threw their things into the backseat of the car and Dean took the keys from Eva, her palms bloody and full of God knows what. Unfamiliar with the car, Dean did his best and the car screeched away, Evelina directing him back to 221B Baker Street.


	34. Ruse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruse; an action intended to deceive someone; a trick.

Moriarty returned home that evening with his dangerous mind filled with a brand new idea. He walked into the room with the ring of holy fire now occupied by two bodies who sat within the ring on opposing sides. 

"Too little too late, I'm afraid," Moriarty stood close to the edge of the ring with his hands in his pockets, looking at its human occupant. "She came to find you, just not soon enough."

Higgins was bruised all over his face in shades of purple and black with blood covering his work suit and skin. He looked at the man through the flames and turned the other way. 

"And as for you," Moriarty turned his eye on the angel who was sat cross legged looking bored. "I don't think she's even began to look."

"I told you," Balthazar sighed and picked at his fingernails. "I've had one or two dealings with her, I'm hardly that important."

Moriarty made a thoughtful noise and left the room, passing into his actual place of residence where his warlock stood looking out of the window over his beloved city; there was little he could do to protect when he was bound to the man behind him. 

"I think it's time for a new plan," he smirked as the warlock turned to face him. "Time to include Mr. Holmes."


	35. Remedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> remedy; a medicine or treatment for a disease or injury.

The car was dumped outside of 221B and Dean and Eva pulled themselves out and hobbled towards the door. Eva could feel a bad pain in one of her knees and it buckled beneath her as she made it to the door.

"Come on Eva," Dean hauled her up. "You can do this."

He clung to her forearm, palm wrapped around it as she clung to the same part of his and allowed him to haul her up. Once they got inside, Dean coiled his arm around her back as she did the same to him and between them, they pulled one another up the staircase through use of the banister rail. 

Evelina tumbled through the door of 221B and almost ended up on the floor again, but Dean held her steady and the faces in the room stared back at them awash with surprise and confusion. 

"Eva?" Leonard stood from the couch where he'd been sat with Jim and Garth, hesitantly approaching Eva who's head was hung forwards. "Kid? Y'alright?"

She lifted her head and Leonard saw the blood and the messy laceration on her face before she let go of dean, leaving a bloody handprint on his jacket. 

"Sit down," Leonard carefully guided Eva to the sofa before he looked at Dean. "Both of you; you don't look so rosy either."

Dean obediently followed as Jim and Garth vacated the sofa, Garth perching on the arm beside Dean, Jim moving to stand by the fireplace.

"Where's Sherlock?" Evelina grimaced as she spoke, the cut on her face stinging as she moved her mouth to speak.

"Scotland Yard," Garth answered for her. "Asked me to come down and look after your friends here since Gabriel had to skip out and see Cas, said he'd see you when he got back later, Sherlock too."

As Evelina nodded, Leonard inspected the cut on her face, placing himself between her and Dean. She rolled her eyes away from Leonard as he touched her face and looked past him to Dean who was hunched over, an arm tight around his middle.

"You're hurt," she said as Leonard stood to collect a few things to clean her wounds.

"I'm fine," Dean shook his head but didn't look at her. "Really."

"You landed on your back," she said.

"You landed on your face," he glanced at her with a slightly raised eyebrow, grimacing at the wound and the general state of her. 

"It's not a competition Dean," she said as Leonard sat himself back between them, setting his implements on the table before them. "Leonard, take a look at Dean first, I can clean the blood off myself."

Half reluctantly, Leonard turned to Dean and inspected the way he was sitting. He prodded and poked around his sides, his ribs and squeezed at his arms as Evelina cleaned off her face with the bowl of water and kitchen towel Leonard had fetched from the kitchen. 

"You oughta lie down," Leonard finally said to him. "Keep your back flat and straight, take a couple of pain killers."

"Cas can fix him when he gets back from wherever," Eva gave a faint smile as Leonard turned back to her and inspected the wound. "Give it to me straight doc, will I live?"

"Just," he said, turning over her injured palm with a barely there smile. "What the hell happened? Did you find him?"

Kirk was watching closely from where he was stood, eyes drifting between her and Dean as he chewed on his fingernails. 

"No," she shook her head slightly. "But we'll find him."

"I thought only you were going," Kirk chirped up. "Who's he?" 

Evelina glowered up at Kirk as Leonard fixed her wound with a couple of butterfly stitches. She saw Dean rise from the sofa out of the corner of her eye and lean on Garth for a little support. 

"Who're you?" Dean retorted in his usual standoffish manner. 

When Leonard had finished fixing the stitches he shared a look with Evelina as he checked over the rest of her face for further injury.

"I asked you first," Kirk stood up straight, a look of cocky arrogance plastered on his face as he sized the other man up. 

"And I asked you second," Dean answered with twice the sarcasm and three times the amount of superiority. 

"Kirk, this is Dean Winchester," Evelina stood with slight aid from Leonard. "He's a um... partner of mine; he's here to help. This is his associate, Garth. The little guy in the trench coat is Cas, he's an angel like Gabriel, but he's Dean's angel."

Kirk rolled his eyes, deciding that he wasn't interested and Dean's eyes followed him with a scowl as he disappeared into the kitchen before Leonard held his hand out to him.

"I'm Leonard McCoy," he greeted him before he shook Garth's hand too. "Good to meet you."

Dean was pleasant to Leonard before he too vanished into the kitchen to clear away the things he'd used to treat Eva's wounds.

"You should lay down," Eva said to Dean as she gingerly prodded at the stitches in her cheek. "Down the hall, first door on the right."

"I have a bed upstairs," he said with a slight hiss of pain as he clutched at his side. "But I see your point." 

Evelina rolled her eyes as she watched after Dean, watching as he felt his way along the wall for support before he ducked into her room and closed the door behind him. With a shake of her head, Evelina sat back down and Garth joined her.

"Listen, nothing personal, but I'm gonna take off," Garth said. "Whenever Cas or Gabe get back, I'm gonna go."

"What?" Evelina frowned at him. "Why?" 

"I get the feeling this case is big," Garth clasped his hands together. "Huge, massive, whatever. It's better suited to a hunter of a higher caliber i.e you and Dean. You can handle this better than I can. I'm a small town monsters kinda guy; not big city creatures. Tell him I'm sorry won't you? Tell him to find me when he gets back or whatever."

"Garth, you don't have to leave," Evelina sat forwards. "We could use the help."

"I won't be of any help," he gave a slight smile. "Besides if the best hunters are here, no ones hunting back home, right?"

Evelina was quiet, she couldn't stop him from going but it felt like he was abandoning Dean, abandoning the both of them really.

"Good luck Eva," he patted her knee gently. 

"Yeah," she swallowed and nodded once. "Thanks." 

With a parting smile, Garth left the room and headed upstairs as Evelina looked into the mirror across the room above the fireplace before snapping her attention to the space where Gath had just been to see Crowley looking back at her. 

"Tough crowd," he said, regarding her with his wide, brown eyes. "How're the boys?"

"Fine, they're fine," she nodded. "I um, need to talk to you actually. I was gonna wait but you're here so."

"Fire away love," Crowley made himself comfortable as Leonard wandered back into the room with Kirk not far behind. "Hello boys."

"The devil in the drawing room," Leonard snorted before he sat in John's old chair as Kirk sat at the small table by the window. "What's he doing here?"

"He's not the devil," she said. "He's the King of Hell."

Crowley gave an impish grin and sarcastic regal wave in Leonard's direction before he turned his full attention back to Evelina.

"I hear there's a Winchester in town," he said, folding his hands on his stomach as he got comfortable. "Singular."

"Yeah, Dean's here," she said, averting her eyes from the demons analytical stare. "Did you send demons after us? At Cane Hill Asylum?"

"Why on Earth would I do that to you?" Crowley lolled his head to one side. "Of course I can't know where the little blighters are all the bloody time but I'd never purposely do that to you, Evelina. Dean perhaps if I was having a particularly bad day and needed a rather amusing pick me up, but never you. What were you doing there in the first place anyway?"

"A missing detective," she answered. "He should've still been there, someone came and took him though I think, I don't know who and I don't know where but he set four demons on Dean and I."

"They did that to you?" he said, nodding to the wound on her face before dropping his brown eyes to her grazed hand. "Was he human?"

"Yeah they wish," she shook her head. "No that was something else. And I don't know, I didn't see his face, I just heard his voice. Had an twang of an accent to it, Irish I think."

"I don't know anything about it love," he looked at her apologetically. 

"Do you know Balthazar is missing?" she asked. 

"No," he frowned at her. "For how long?"

"I'm not sure," she answered him honestly. "A few days? Maybe a week? Cas was uh, mad at me, said I should know where Balthazar is because he's missing in London. He was gonna beat five levels of hell out of me so Gabriel fetched Dean to stop him."

"Ah, awkward," Crowley sat forwards before he glanced at her curiously. "Balthazar is missing here?"

"Apparently so," she gave a shrug. "The High Warlock's still missing too. Frankly, I don't know what case I ought to be focusing on; missing magic, missing angels or missing star ship crew."

"I'll keep an eye and an ear out for news on Balthazar," Crowley gave her a gentle pat on the back. "Perhaps in the meantime you ought to put your head down, you look worse than Hell and believe me, I'd know."

In the blink of an eye, Crowley had vanished and Leonard was looking over at Evelina intently, his head resting in his hand as Jim too looked at her. 

"You think someone kidnapped the detective?" Leonard asked. "You think this was a set up?"

"No, I don't think it's a set up, I think it was an unhappy coincidence," she said looking back at him. "But I do think someone took him."

"A coincidence?" Kirk asked.

"Yeah," Evelina stood and tested out how steady she was on her feet. "It's what the universe does for fun. Look, tomorrow I'll go question my colleague who was with the detective at the time. If that brings me no joy then I'm stumped."

"Go get some rest, kid," Leonard advised. "Sounds like you're gonna need it."

She gave him a gentle smile and limped off to her room. When she opened the door, she found Dean laid on his back staring up at the ceiling and she closed the door behind her. 

"Garth's leaving," she said before she forgot to tell him. "Said he's not suited to a case like this. He said he's sorry and said you oughta call him when you're back in town and all this is over."

"Thought he'd skip out sooner," Dean replied honestly. "Least he'll be safer across the pond. This is big, Eve's, real big; something ain't right in this city."

Eva fell quiet and sat herself in the armchair in her room, looking at her bed as Dean continued to look up at the ceiling. 

"And I get it now," he said, pulling himself up with a little difficulty but just enough so he could look at her where she sat.

"Get what?" she frowned.

"Why you hate those roadside attractions and why you get the chills in abandoned places," he said. "I was thinking about it while you were out there; they remind you of that time, don't they? With the Rawhead?"

Eva closed her eyes for a mere moment, remembering the faith healer with the Reaper and the abandoned house where the Rawhead prowled in the basement where Dean got electrocuted.

"I really thought that was it," she said. "That you were gonna die because your heart got so screwed and you got so weak. Sam and Al researched for days on end and I never left your side and then Sam found that faith healer and you thought it was a load of crap but here you are, alive and kicking."

"Yeah, just," he raised his brows before he nodded to the empty space beside him on her bed. "You always worried about me, right til the end."

She slid onto the bed, taking care not to lean on her left palm too much as she settled into the space beside the elder Winchester and got comfortable. 

"There was no end," she said. "I never stopped."


	36. Concealment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> concealment; the action of hiding something or preventing it from being known.

When Evelina woke, it was barely light outside and her face stung on the side that it had been injured. Dean hadn't moved all night, he'd not so much as shuffled and remained on his back, eyes closed and hands resting on his stomach.

She slid effortlessly and very carefully from the bed as to not wake Dean; she was actually surprised he even was asleep. In the past she'd seen how hard it was for him to settle at night, to crawl under a comforter and close his eyes because he was too tightly wound to let himself relax.

She figured he must feel safe here, that he must be comfortable and just for a moment, she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest before she pulled out some smart looking clothes from her wardrobe and ventured off to the bathroom to change.

Going along with her plan, she changed into a smart looking dress (black with a white collar), black tights and a blazer before brushing out her hair, having a wash and brushing her teeth. With a final check in the mirror and some minimal make up to deter away from the wound on her cheek, she took herself back to her room, grabbed her bag, her phone and a pair of heels and ventured into the living space where once more Leonard and Kirk were sleeping top to toe on the couch. 

She grabbed her coat and keys and silently slunk out of the door of the flat. Once she reached the bottom step in the lobby area, she slid into her shoes and coat and stuffed her keys into her bag before pulling out her phone as she closed the door to 221B.

It was just turned 7:05am and when Evelina reached the pavement, the street was silent with no cars or taxis in sight. She sunk her hands along with her phone into her coat pockets and strolled towards the tube station, glancing back towards 221B before carrying on her way.

A few souls flittered about the tube station, but not enough that Eva had to elbow her way through like usual. The tube car for once when it rolled up was silent, but Evelina could feel the presences aboard. 

A Djinn sat three seats ahead of her, heavily tattooed with bluer than the sky eyes and she could hear the melodic sounds of a siren in the tube car ahead of her and tried to block out the sound by closing her eyes. 

She was more than happy to step off at the right platform and hurry on out of the underground maze into the cool morning air. 

The streets were still fairly quiet when she surfaced, the sky a soft peach with pastel pinks and purples leaking through. She glanced up one street and down another and made for Westminster Bridge, knowing she had a lot of time spare before she wanted to wander into New Scotland Yard.

A few cars passed her by and several iconic red busses. People in suits passed her by talking loudly on cell phones but Evelina ignored them, glancing over the side of the bridge to The Thames below and glancing up at Big Ben as she passed over. 

At the other side she grabbed two coffees and two muffins to go and took herself to New Scotland Yard, stepping out of the elevator on the appropriate floor. Half of the staff were missing since it wasn't their time to start yet and she passed by Higgins' still empty desk with a tight knot in her stomach; she missed him something fierce. 

She reached the DIs office and let herself in, setting the coffee down and the bag of muffins before she settled into Greg's chair and sipped at one of the cups.

It wasn't too long before Greg was stood in the doorway with his bag hung over his arm giving her a puzzled look that quickly turned to one of elation then concern upon seeing her face.

"Come on then," Greg dumped his bag down. "Where is he?"

Evelina could feel the happiness radiating from him so much so that she was sure she'd be able to physically hear it turn to disappointment. 

"He's not," she answered, figuring he was talking about Higgins. "I...we...didn't find him. Something was wrong."

"We?" Greg puzzled as Evelina stood and allowed him to sit at his desk before she pushed the items she'd purchased towards him and settled in the chair at the opposing side. 

"I have a partner who's in town, dabbles in the same kind of thing," she said taking another sip of her coffee. "Came with me to Cane Hill. I think someone kidnapped Higgins and I think Anderson might have something to do with it."

"Anderson," Greg said, his deep brown eyes studying her closely. "You think he planned this?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe, maybe not. But if anyone knows anything, its got to be him. He was the last person to see Higgins, maybe he saw something else too. I want to question him, could I do that today?"

Greg gave a singular nod and she thanked him as she finished what was left in her cup as Greg moved around some paperwork.

"What happened to your face?" he asked, finally looking at the puffy pink cut on her cheek. "Looks painful."

"I'm alright," she gave him a smile with the opposing side of her mouth. "Had a little fall is all."

A knock came at the DI's open door and a woman stood, looking back at the DI before her eyes fell on Evelina. 

"Agents Novak and MacLeod," she said. "Said they're with you. Something going on with Anderson?"

"Take room two," Greg informed her. "I'll tell Anderson you're looking for him, you can take it from there, right? I'll send two of my boys down just in case."

Evelina gave a nod and stood, puzzling at the back of the woman's head as she followed her across the floor. Novak and MacLeod? She didn't know those names.

It was only when she saw the faces of Gabriel and Crowley that the penny finally dropped and she raised a brow at the pair of them. She greeted them falsely but with just enough belief to fool the woman before she walked away and Evelina led the angel and the demon down towards the interrogation rooms.

"What are you doing?" she said as soon as they were in the room. "MacLeod and Novak? Crowley's I get, that's his name, but really Gabriel? You don't even remember what your vessel is called."

"I remember what Castiel's is called," he answered, perching on the metal table in the middle of the room. 

"Wait," she held up her hands as another penny dropped. "You're both here together and you're not squabbling. What happened?"

"Nothing," Crowley answered, taking a seat at one side of the table. "Mutual differences aside, we both decided we'd be better helping rather than hindering, although some of us hinder more than others."

The demons dark brown eyes were fixed on Gabriel where he perched, but the angel didn't bite, he didn't look to be in his usual happy go lucky state and Eva guessed that had something to do with the wound on her face and her busted up palm. 

"This," Gabriel stood and drew a circle in the air around her face. "Is this guys fault? And what happened to Dean-o too?"

"Technically yes," she answered as she glanced at a mark on the ceiling above her. "He made us go to Cane Hill in search of Higgins and if we hadn't gone then Dean wouldn't have leant on the rotting banister and we wouldn't have fallen over it. So, yeah, I guess it is."

"You're still going to question him then," Crowley said. "You still think it's a coincidence."

"I don't know," she answered. "Because I'm stumped. He was the last person to see Higgins and that's all I got."

Gabriel gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he perched none too happily beside the demon as a knock came at the door. Evelina opened it to reveal Anderson looking back at her before he stepped in with a pleasant smile. 

"Greg said you were looking for me," he said.

Crowley snapped his fingers and the door slammed shut and Gabriel waved his hand back, moving the chair out opposite them for Anderson to take a seat. 

"You'd better sit down," Crowley said and took great pride in watching Anderson jump at the slam of the door.

"Evelina what..."

"Do as he says," she said giving him a level look. "I have to ask you some questions about Higgins."

And what happened next surprised Evelina deeply. The fear and jitteriness that was Anderson seemed to dissipate only to be replaced by a malicious smile that spread over his features as he sat before the angel and the demon.

"I thought you'd never ask."


	37. Catechize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> catechize; put questions to or interrogate someone.

Evelina stared at his smile for a short amount of time, aptly aware of the surprise on her own features. The facade that Anderson had clearly put on had melted away and in its place was someone Evelina hardly even recognized, let alone knew. 

Anderson sat and stared at the metal surface of the table until he flicked his gaze over to where Eva was looking at him slightly open mouthed.

"Well?" he said folding his arms.

Crowley's deep browns and the softer honey coloured stare of the angel fixed on Anderson like heat seeking missiles before they followed his line of vision to Evelina. Crowley could see she was waiting for the tell tale signs of possession, waiting for his eyes to flick back, but the demon shook his head and Gabriel feigned a look of sympathy; Anderson was human.

"Where's the missing officer?" Crowley asked calmly as he turned to face Anderson; the anger showed on his face but not in his voice.

"I don't know," Anderson shrugged, not bothering to look the demon in the eye. "And really, I don't."

Evelina watched the scene, feeling as though she was floating and watching from above. She couldn't bring herself to open her mouth quite yet until her brain wrapped itself around what was happening so instead, she leant against the wall and allowed her (for lack of a better word) _guardians_ take over for the time being. 

"What do you mean you 'don't know?'" Gabriel air quoted before folding his arms.

"Exactly that, genius," Anderson snorted his reply. 

Evelina had seldom seen Gabriel angered. She'd seen him irritated and grouchy, usually with one or both of the Winchesters. She'd seen him snappy and acting like a petulant child, but she'd never seen the look that passed over his face there and then. 

His golden eyes darkened and his lip curled slightly. His fists clenched on the table and Evelina thought Gabriel was going to rain down a celestial rampage on Anderson right there and then until she remembered that he and Crowley were only playing at being FBI agents.

"Hm, helpful," Crowley muttered sarcastically before he tried another question. "What did you do to him?" 

"Me? Nothing," Anderson jabbed a finger towards himself and a wicked grin spread across his face. "As for someone else? Couldn't tell you. I just know he's gone and I'm happy about it."

"Cut the crap, bucko," Gabriel leant over the table, his eyes intent on Anderson. "Who's the other guy?"

"I don't know," Anderson stared back with his head lolled to one side, leveling his gaze with the angel. "Wouldn't tell me his name but we had a deal and he got rid of Higgins."

Evelina finally found the will to speak and pulled herself away from the wall, standing between the two faux FBI agents.

"Why?" she asked simply.

"Because he was in the way," Anderson answered as he looked up at her with a smile that she didn't recognize.

"Of what?" Gabriel queried. 

"Of her," Anderson answered, not once taking his eyes away from Evelina. "So he had to go."

"Me?" she frowned. 

"Oh _please,_ " he almost spat. "He dotes on you with his big goo goo eyes. All his play fighting and all the jokes he shares with you. All the test results that you had bumped up from him because he beat me to them every time."

"Well he would, I'd be surprised if you did get you hands on my samples," she said. "I always call Higgins unless he's not there. I always ask him to do my lab work, the only time you get something of mine is when it's sent from Bart's."

Anderson's face set itself into a scowl and now he glared up at her.

"Well, you won't find him," he said.

"Wanna bet?" she leant between Crowley and Gabriel who glanced at one another over her head. "Finding things is a real speciality of mine. I can really _hunt_ things down."

He turned his head away from her and she continued to speak.

"This man you made a deal with," she said. "Did he have an Irish accent?"

He looked back to her and then away again.

"No," he said, studying the wall.

"So he did," she said standing upright.

"I said _no_ ," he answered, still not looking at her.

"I'd say look at me when you're lying to me, but you can't," she said. "You didn't look at Greg when you told him you _found_ my journal because you _stole_ it, you didn't look at me when you told me Higgins was _sick_ because he was missing and you're not looking at me now because this man _does_ have an Irish accent."

Anderson didn't speak but Evelina carried on talking. 

"And just so you're aware, the disappearance of Higgins is linked to my current case that you're now a suspect in," she said firmly. "Congratulations; what happens to you now is up to me entirely."

Anderson looked stricken and for a moment, he was the Anderson she knew. 

"You don't fool me," she said, walking towards the door with the faux agents in tow. "The officers outside of this door will cuff you and take you to into holding. And when I find Higgins, because believe me, I will, you better hope he's alive, because if he's dead, I'll make sure you wish you were."

With those parting words, Evelina was through the door and giving the cuffing order to the officers outside of the door with Crowley and Gabriel following quietly behind her as she made her way back up to the main floor.


	38. Lifeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lifeline; a thing on which someone or something depends or which provides a means of escape from a difficult situation.

The demon and the angel waited for Evelina to emerge from the DIs office and when she did, she didn't look as though she was wholly there. They followed her around to Higgins' desk where she sat and pulled out a pile of papers, not once glancing up to the two that looked over her. 

"Evelina, love," Crowley laid a hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps it would be wise to head back to Baker Street..."

"I'm fine," she interrupted, slamming a wad of papers onto the desk. "You go."

The demon retracted his hand and looked at the angel who was giving Evelina a sympathetic look, but he didn't say anything. He strolled away from the desk, inviting Crowley to walk along with him. 

"That guy said he'd made a deal," Gabriel spoke as they left the main floor, riding the elevator down to the lobby area. 

"Not a demon deal," Crowley slung his hands into his pockets. "And the sniveling little toad was wholly human."

"She's really upset," Gabriel nodded back to New Scotland Yard as they strolled out onto the street.

"I can see that," Crowley answered, following his gaze. "Which is why I suggested she returns to Baker Street."

"She won't listen and you know it," Gabriel glanced at Crowley. "I'll send Dean-o to fetch her in a little while, she'll listen to him."

-

When Gabriel returned to 221B, he returned without Crowley who went his own way to see if anything had been heard about Balthazar. Sherlock was gone from the flat, probably working his own case and Castiel was sat in the kitchen with Leonard and Kirk attempting to learn how to play a card game as far as Gabriel could see.

When he reached Evelina's room, he found Dean sitting in the armchair, thumbing through Evelina's journal and the angel closed the door behind him and perched on the end of the bed.

"Shouldn't she have this on her?" Dean asked, gesturing to the book. 

"Kiddos got a lot of things on her mind," he shrugged one shoulder. "Besides, it's all in her head anyway."

Dean gave a half shrug as he returned the journal back to where he'd found it and made to get up, but Gabriel stopped him.

With a puzzled look, Dean sat back down in the chair, studying the archangel carefully. They'd never been the closest of friends and Dean had only the minutest streak of trust for him, but since he was tied with Evelina, he sat back down.

"Where is Evelina?" he frowned. "Is she out there?"

He nodded to the door but Gabriel shook his head and sat a little more comfortably.

"She's at New Scotland Yard," he answered. "She's not in the best way."

"And you just left her there," Dean said with an edge to his voice.

"Hey, bucko," Gabriel glared at him slightly. "She _wanted_ to be left there."

"And..." Dean frowned.

"She won't listen," Gabriel said, crossing his legs under himself. "To me or even to Crowley."

"So...what," Dean said. "You just leave her there, whether she wants that or not?"

Gabriel gave a small smile as he looked over the eldest Winchester sibling who was giving him a puzzling look. 

"You gotta talk to her Dean-o," Gabriel said, stretching out his back. "You're the only one she'll listen to when she gets like this."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed. "You think she listens to me?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," the angel crossed his arms and lolled his head to the left, studying Dean carefully. "I think she listens intently."

Dean's expression was growing more and more perplexed the more the angel spoke and Gabriel rolled his eyes with a long and deep sigh. 

"Look, I might get sat on by a 400 pound Cherub by the name of Cupid here for spoilers, but you and her..."

"Me and her?" Dean jolted forwards and Gabriel leant backwards away from him. "What about me and her? What's Cupid got to do with anything?"

"That my dumb friend I really can't tell you," Gabriel said before his eyes wandered upwards. "But _they_ know."

The penny finally dropped and Dean's bright green eyes widened before they narrowed back on the angel and he leant even further forwards.

"Wait," he said slowly. "Do _you_ know?"

A playful smile spread over the angels face and Dean grimaced as Gabriel leant forwards, taunting him.

"Let's say I did," the angel grinned. "Would you want to know?"

Dean settled back in the chair and looked thoughtful. Did he? He'd had numerous thoughts and plans and ideas but that's all they'd ever stayed. Between their 'jobs' and between the consequences of their 'jobs' there wasn't much time for living.

But Sam and Alicia had managed it; married, living together and with a kid. Not that he could imagine having a kid, definitely couldn't imagine Eva with a kid but maybe they could hack being married. Was Evelina happy here, though? Did she enjoy living here with Sherlock and helping out at New Scotland Yard? 

But really, did he want to know? Did he want to know if they'd end up together in the end? Because wasn't that the point? That the whole point of meeting someone and eventually loving someone was all the great and unexpected things that came with it If Dean knew what the future held, then it wouldn't be much of a future; there'd be nothing to look forwards to if you knew it was already coming. 

But Dean thoroughly believed that Eva wasn't just someone; that she wasn't just some girl he'd had a few too many shots with those few years ago, that she wasn't just some wannabe hunter that had put him firmly in his place from the get go; he knew what she was to him and that it never needed to be said out loud for it to be true.

"No," he finally said. "I don't wanna know. No spoilers."

"Good," Gabriel gave a grin that made Dean uneasy. "Now go get her; return the cop car while you're at it."

Gabriel nodded to the keys sat on the bedside table and Dean grabbed them and left the room, throwing a nod to Cas and the others as he left the flat. 

-

When he got to New Scotland Yard, he parked the car where he was directed to and headed inside, asking at a desk for Evelina. He was led over to a quiet corner where files were spread over a desk and Evelina was hunched over in the chair, studying each one. 

When they were left alone, Evelina looked up, her face wet and her eyes red.

"Come on," Dean held a hand out to her but she shook her head. "Eva, you need to get out of here, come on."

This time she took his hand and he grabbed her coat and bag from under the desk before leading her out of the building and onto the sidewalk. He held up her coat for her to slide her arms into before she turned to him and took her bag from his arm. 

She walked and he followed before he pulled on her arm gently, pulling her into the small square of Christchurch Gardens. They sat together on a bench and Evelina watched the iconic red busses pass by as Dean watched nothing but her.

"What's going on Eve's?" he asked.

"The missing officer," she said. "It's my fault If I'd have just paid a little more attention to Anderson, he wouldn't have gotten crazy jealous and gotten rid of Higgins."

"Woah," Dean shuffled a little closer to her. "That's what happened? Eva that's not your fault."

"But if..."

"No," he said. "That officer isn't missing because of you, he's missing because of Anderson. Don't you dare blame yourself Eva. Besides, we're gonna find him and clear this whole mess of a case up okay?"

"Which case?" she gave a sardonic laugh as she wiped her eyes. "The missing angel, the missing officer or the boys out of time?"

"Eva, it's one big case," he said slinging his arm around her shoulders as he turned his attention to the red busses passing by. "We'll do it little by little, starting with the officer, then the angel and then your boys."

"They're not my boys," she said, leaning her head against his chest.

"Yeah, that's Crowley and Gabriel," he smiled down at her. "Or maybe even the guys at Scotland Yard."

She laughed a little and Dean gently squeezed her shoulder still thinking about what Gabriel had said. If it weren't for the case and Eva's current emotional state, Dean would have been happy to sit there on that bench with her in Christchurch Gardens and watch the world pass by. 

But with the City crawling with more evil every day, they weren't safe here and they were running out of time slowly but surely. 

"One thing," she said lifting her head and standing from the bench to smooth out her coat before she looked at Dean who was looking at her. "Or, um, two maybe."

"Yeah?" he said standing.

She forgot that Dean was just that little bit taller than her, forgot that his eyes frequently changed their shade of green and took a moment to compose herself.

"They guy at Cane Hill," she said as she took the lead out of the park. "It's the same guy Anderson spoke with about getting rid of Higgins."

Dean placed his hand on her shoulder as a comfort; at least now they had a link and maybe it was a weak one but it was still a link.

"The other thing?" he asked her as they wandered into a tube station.

She pulled him to one side, out of the way of the rushing commuters and delicately kissed his cheek before taking his hand and leading him towards the pay gates where they passed the card between one another before making their way down to the platform.

She still held his hand on the platform, even on the tube and when they set foot on the sidewalk at Baker Street tube station, Dean stopped them from going any further.

"Gabriel said something to me earlier," he said as people walked by them on the street. "I know it's probably not the right time but it was about me and you. Something about Cupid and the angels knowing something about us."

"There's never a right time for us," she pointed out. "The angels have their prophecies, Cupid has his marks. I don't know if our hearts are the same and I don't wanna know. Cupid can't tell me who to love."

She took his hand and pulled him along with a smile before they crossed the road and escaped into the warmth of 221B.

"You love me?" Dean asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Well, you love me," she said. "It's kind of expected."


	39. Drowse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drowse (n); a light sleep; a condition of being half asleep.

When Eva opened the flat door, she found Leonard and Kirk thumbing through channels on the ancient TV set and not an angel or a detective in sight. There was little point in explaining about Anderson; Leonard and Kirk had met him once at Mycoft's ball and she was in no hurry to bring up that tirade any time soon. 

She left the boys with the TV set, tentatively squeezing Leonard's arm as she passed into the kitchen to retrieve a couple of aspirins and a glass of water. 

Dean watched her move from room to room as he thought about what she'd said. Was it still really that obvious? So obvious that Eva didn't have to stand on eggshells to figure it out for herself? He'd not been here two minutes for her to catch on, but that was Eva; always with the small things.

"You okay?" he asked her as she necked the tablets and chased them down with water. 

"I'm gonna lay down," she said setting the glass on Sherlock's side table before she rubbed her eyes. "Thanks for...that. I appreciate it."

She gave a yawn and Dean smiled a little before she picked up the glass and gave him a sleepy smile. 

"Let me know if you hear anything," Dean said, rocking on his heels, not wholly sure of what to do with himself. "I'll be upstairs if you want me."

It was Eva who made the move and stepped forwards, grazing his jaw with a soft kiss before she patted his chest and padded into the kitchen before returning. 

"Likewise," she yawned once more. "I'll be right here."

With slightly rosier cheeks, Dean left and headed upstairs leaving Eva with Leonard and Kirk. It was Kirk who had the remote control and when Eva slouched off to her room, Leonard watched her for a moment before he followed on.

He knocked gently and Eva called him in from where she was coiled up on the bed with her back to the door. 

"Y'alright, kid?" he said, sitting on the end of the bed. "Haven't seen you properly for a little while."

She rolled over and sat up before she looked at Leonard who was looking back at her with deep, dark eyes and an air of concern.

"Far from it," she replied honestly. "But that's okay; little steps and all."

"You questioned that guy didn't you?" he said. "About the missing officer?"

"Mhm, didn't go well," she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. "Turns out that the officer didn't get lost; the guy I questioned set him up, he got rid of him."

"You think he's..." Leonard trailed off, not wanting to say the last word.

"I hope not," she glanced at him with sad green eyes and then looked forwards. "Anderson's in holding anyway. I think I just want to sleep for a little while."

It was only 7:20pm but Evelina felt beat. Between the demons and the Irish man and Anderson, she could've slept for a whole week, nevermind a day. 

"Sure," Leonard stood and looked down at her. "Sleep well, kid."

"Goodnight," she gave him a smile as he left before she rolled over and closed her eyes. 

\----

Evelina didn't wake until the following afternoon, feeling bright eyed and ready to face the case head on. As she sat up in bed, she sat on the side of the bed and stared at her desk littered with curse boxes and wrapped up artifacts. 

Had she meant what she'd said to Dean? Had it been too much too soon to say and that's why he'd questioned it? He hadn't had a meltdown which was good, but he did seem unsure of how he ought to act. 

She rubbed her eyes and pulled herself up, wondering where was the best place to start even looking for him. She had the open case file of his disappearance full of phone numbers she was going to ring to see if Higgins might have magically returned to them.

She didn't hold high hopes.

With her file, she took it into the main living space and sat beside the phone, dialing one number after another under the watchful eye of Castiel's gaze who's head was leaning to the left in fascination.


	40. Impasse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Impasse (n); a situation in which no progress is possible, especially because of disagreement; a deadlock.

There was no word of Higgins anywhere; not with his parents or his siblings, not at Scotland Yard. There was no paper trail to follow, no clues; only Cane Hill Asylum and Evelina was in no hurry to get herself back there if demons had cornered them last time. 

Both Leonard and Kirk had gone to St. Barts with Sherlock that evening and Dean hadn't surfaced from his upstairs apartment all day. Gabriel hadn't stopped by and Crowley hadn't dropped in so Evelina had been with Castiel all afternoon.

It had been a quiet afternoon. After the fruitlessness of the phone calls, Evelina had spent a good hour staring out of the window beside Sherlock's makeshift desk, watching the traffic pass by the end of the quiet street and without Leonard and Kirk, the flat felt huge. 

She read and re-read the missing persons report on Higgins until the words just jumbled into a mass of black and tried to do some online digging about the High Warlock but that came back with nothing. 

When she pushed away the laptop and closed the files, setting them neatly on top, Castiel gave her a curious glance.

"It's a dead end, Cas," she said sitting beside him on the sofa that had served to be Leonard and Kirk's bed for the past few weeks. "I got nothing. Is there word on Balthazar?"

"He cannot be traced," he answered her. "There's a block."

"Like magic?" she said, turning to face him slightly. "A spell of some kind?"

"Perhaps," Castiel turned his head to her, his brow frowning over his perfectly blue eyes. "I cannot hear him nor can he be traced by a burning map. He is hidden."

"Do you think this is his own doing?" she asked. "That maybe he doesn't want to be found?"

"Have you ever met Balthazar?" he asked. 

"Once," she said. "Last year. I needed help with finding something, couldn't get rid of him for a month. Never saw him again after though, never heard a peep about him either. So it'd make sense if he didn't want to be found."

"Balthazar does keep himself to himself," Castiel agreed. "But it is unlike Balthazar to not answer a call."

"Maybe the block has something to do with the missing warlock," Evelina offered. "Maybe the warlock has him; maybe the warlocks gone rogue. But why would a warlock want an angel?"

"There are a lot of possibilities," Castiel glanced at the wall opposite them as Evelina looked at him. "Many roads to explore."

"I know a place where we might get some more information on the warlock," she offered as she stood. "Albeit it might be information we already know."

"I will join you," Castiel offered but Evelina gave him a hesitant look.

"Best you don't," she said gently. "The place isn't really angel or demon friendly; definitely not hunter friendly. It's a safe place for the Supes, you gotta respect that."

"But you are going," he said, confused.

"I'm a friend to the owner," she said ruffling Cas' hair slightly. "I'm allowed."

-

Evelina changed into something more acceptable for the club; a pretty blue dress and black heels, before she grabbed her coat, her phone and headed for the door. As she closed the flat door, she turned to see Dean coming down from his apartment, regarding her with a curious look. 

"Where you going?" he asked. "You got a date?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm gonna go see if I can find some more things out about the warlock."

"Looking like that?" he raised an eyebrow. "I ain't buying it. And you're going alone?"

"I have a friend who's a warlock, owns a club near The Elephant & Castle, it's a Supe place," she said. "And if you're so concerned, why don't you come with me? It's a real eye opener, trust me, but you will need to get changed."

"Ten minutes," Dean said. "I'll see you downstairs."

Whilst she waited for Dean in the warmth of the lobby, she tided up her hair and redid her lipstick before Dean came down the stairs two at a time in a suit he usually used for his faux FBI agent stint. He straightened up his tie in the mirror and let Evelina lead him out and across the street to the tube station. 

"So this place," Dean said as they loitered about the platform, wasting seven minutes before their train. "If it's full of Supes why aren't you..."

"Because they're the good ones," she answered, looking up and down the track. "They're the ones who don't cause bother, the ones with human friends and families. Nathaniel offers them a safe place where they can just be themselves."

"Alright," Dean said, even though he wasn't buying it. "Say they suddenly turned."

"Then I do what I do best," she said, looking right at him. "That's the agreement, you stand in my way or make something difficult for me, then we're done. They understand that and they understand that without me taking out the bad ones, they wouldn't be safe. It's an understanding."

The train rolled up, grinding to a screeching halt as she and Dean were bustled onto the train and ended up standing chest to chest in a packed full car as it rolled on through its stops until it reached the end of the line where they jumped off, happy to have some breathing space. 

When they got out into the nights air, Evelina did the same thing to Dean as she had done to Leonard when she'd brought him here.

"You need to be marked to get in," she said, holding out her hand for Dean's arm. "No cutting or burning, the pen will do."

She drew the looped mark on his forearm, capped the pen and stuffed it into her coat pocket before leading him down the eerie roads. Without thinking, Dean coiled his arm around her, holding her close as they walked.

"I don't like it around here, Eva," he said as they hurried along. "Somethings not right."

"It's the absence of magic," she answered him as they reached the red brick building. "Ordinarily you wouldn't look out of the corner of your eye, you wouldn't feel as though you were followed. Let's get inside."

She turned the old handle on the door and stepped in with Dean following behind, the mark obviously working, before she led him down the stairs and into the cellar club where music pounded and bodies danced, leaving Dean surprised and at a slight loss for words.


	41. Succour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> succour (n); assistance and support in times of hardship and distress.

Dean glanced around, his fingertips in the gentle grasp of Eva's palm as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He could see the shining points of vampire teeth in the lighting of the club, the yellow eyed glow of werewolf eyes as they scanned the faces in the room. 

He looked to Eva who was looking back at him expectantly, probably waiting for him to go American Psycho on the place, but Dean could see the silent plea in her eyes for him to behave, for him to not be accepting but at least be understanding. 

He didn't recognize the music playing overhead; it was heavy with too much bass that resonated through his skull, rattling his eardrums and vibrating into his teeth. He could hear snippets of laughter around him, loud talking and the overall buzz of the place and Dean felt like he didn't belong.

His fingers tensed without his say so in Eva's palm and she turned her attention back to him, giving him a puzzled look before she rested a hand on his shoulder, gently tugging him down to her height as they stood away from the swaying bodies of the Supes.

"It's alright," she said in his ear. "They won't hurt us; they don't know what I am. Well, the overall majority don't. The ones I'm looking for do."

His hand was still tense in hers and he pulled back to look at her face. Her expression was relaxed, her smile gentle and trustworthy. Dean felt like he'd walked straight into the lions den behind her, but for Eva he'd probably follow her straight into Hell.

"Trust me," she mouthed at him with a lift of her brow and grin. 

He felt her tug on his hand and they weaved through the bodies on the dance floor, heading straight for the bar where she squeezed them both into a vacant spot. 

Dean watched her green eyes look up and down the bar before her brows furrowed together and she glanced at the faces sat beside them. There was no-one serving; some club. She looked back to him, resting a hand on his arm.

"One second okay?" she gave him that smile again; _trust me_. "I'll be right back."

"Eva..." Dean grabbed her wrist gently. 

"They won't hurt you," she smiled. "They don't even know who we are. Relax, Freckles."

She tentatively kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand before he watched her cross the floor, sliding between witches and werewolves until he lost sight of her completely. He clasped his hands on the bar top, studying the bodies around them until Eva reappeared and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"Something isn't right," she said in his ear. 

He turned his body to her, her hand sliding from his shoulder as they looked at one another before Dean noticed a tall, pale blonde man behind Eva. His eyes looked over Eva's head and he nodded behind her as she turned around.

"I was just about to call you," the blonde looked down on Evelina, before he glanced none too kindly in Dean's direction. "There's an issue."

Dean studied the blonde with his combed back hair and pink rimmed eyes, noting he had the embalmed look about him until he smiled gently at Evelina and showed two pointed fangs.

"Issue?" she questioned, reaching behind her for Dean's hand. "Something we can help with?"

"Human?" the blonde looked at Dean as he took hold of Eva's hand.

"More than you," he answered before Eva gave his hand a warning squeeze.

"Eric, this is Dean, he's my partner," she said, choosing her words carefully. "Dean, this is Eric. He's a good friend of mine."

"I liked the other fellow better," Eric glanced Dean up and down. "More charming. He's like you?"

"Yes," Evelina nodded.

Eric gave a single nod and beckoned them to follow him behind the bar and through a door into the back. He stopped by the door to Nathaniel's office and turned to the two hunters and Evelina could read a thread of sadness on the vampires face.

"Eric?" she said softly. "What is it?"

"It's a grave sight," he said turning to the door and laying his hand upon the handle.

Evelina tensed up and squeezed Dean's hand tight. Had something happened to Nathaniel? To Bill? To Alcide? She willed herself to look when the door opened, willed herself to walk to the middle of the room, seeing Nathaniel's desk clear of its usual clutter and a body laid atop it, shrouded in a violet silk cloth with painted pebbles over its eyes.

Alcide in wolf form padded over to Evelina, nudging her hand with a wet nose before he sat glumly at her feet. Bill stood in one corner, facing the desk and Eric had now moved to the other, leaving Evelina and Dean in the middle of the room with the large black wolf sat at their feet. 

For a long and awful moment, she thought it was Nathaniel laid out on his desk, but she saw a bowed head over the other side, a hand laid atop the silk cloth. She dropped Dean's hand and laid her other on Alcide's head as she dared to walk closer, leaving Dean in the middle of the room. 

Even with the pebbles over the eyes, Evelina could see the same rounded features of Nathaniel's face, the same mousy brown curls.

"He was found a few lots down," Eric said from behind her. "A single wound to the stomach surrounded by magic burns."

"Another warlock did this?" Evelina turned to Eric. "Warlocks aren't like this, they wouldn't do harm to Natheniel's brother."

"But someone has," Nathaniel lifted his head, his eyes were heavy and tired, his cheeks tear stained. "And for what reason?"

"This stops," Evelina turned to him, looking over his fatigued state. "This stops now. From the bodies torn up by the hounds to Higgins going missing. It stops and it stops now."

Evelina marched out of the door, the wolf following behind her as Dean chased after her. Eric and Bill passed one another a glance before leaving Nathaniel in peace with his brother and following on behind.

"What are you gonna do?" Dean grabber her by the arm. "I know that look Eva."

"This," she pulled her arm out of Dean's grasp and pulled herself up onto the bar. 

Alcide let out a long and loud howl, piercing through the music that fell silent and forcing everyone to look in the direction it was coming from.

"Listen up!" Evelina yelled and her voice carried across the club. "My name is Evelina Clarke and I'm a Hunter."

There was a notable shift in the atmosphere and several bodies in the crowd bristled as several more growled. Alcide snarled and paced the bar in front of her, keeping the crowd back as the vampires stood either side of her and Dean watched on, half proud and half worried.

"There is an understanding in here," she carried on, despite the atmosphere. "I have never come after you, you have caused me no harm and no trouble. I know you have families, human friends. I know this is your safe place. I keep out there safe for you, or as safe as I can, but right now, out there isn't safe. Out there is dangerous. I need your help."

"And why should we help you?" a voice piped up. "A Hunter?"

"Because if you don't," Dean pulled himself up beside her. "You won't have a club anymore. A home. A family. You will have no safe place."

Eva looked at Dean wide eyed, surprised he'd pulled himself up beside her. 

"There's something wrong out there," she pointed to the staircase out. "Something malicious. People are being killed and kidnapped. People like you, people like us. There are demons running amok, hellhounds loose from Hell and a missing High Warlock. Without his magic, the City will stay this way. Help us."

"How?" said a young witch in the front. 

"Don't hide," Evelina dropped her eyes to the witch. "Fight. Fight them off of the streets so we can find the High Warlock. Protect yourselves instead of relying on us. I can't do all of this myself."

"We'll help," a male voice spoke from the middle of the crowd. "If you can promise us you can fix the City. I have kids, a wife. Please."

"I promise I'll try my hardest," she spoke over the crowd. "I promise."

\----

The tube ride back to Baker Street Tube Station was quiet but Dean held her hand the whole way, jostling their clasped fingers on his knee as he counted down the stops. When they reached the top of the escalators in the tube station, they found Crowley, Castiel and Gabriel waiting for them.

They looked at the two and angels and the demon, reading something very wrong before Crowley spoke.

"There's been an explosion at Baker Street," he said. "The streets cordoned off, there's police everywhere."

Evelina tried to push her way past, but Crowley and Gabriel pulled her back.

"Mrs. H," she said looking at Gabriel. "Sherlock. Leonard and Kirk. Where are they?"

"Mrs. H is fine," Gabriel assured her. "Gone to her sisters in Ealing. Sherlock, Leonard and Kirk were still out at Bart's. No one was in luckily. But you can't go back to the flat. Sherlock is at the Diogenes Club with Leonard and Kirk. I zapped in, grabbed what I could of yours and Dean-o's things. They're all over there waiting for you. People, possessions and all."

"Everyone's alright though?" she said, looking at the three beings looking back at her. "Aren't they?" 

"Everyone is safe," Castiel assured her. 

Eva saw the changing eyes of a Kitsune pass them by and at their other side, Dean saw the silver glare of a skin walker before coiling an arm around Eva's waist.

"We should go," Dean said, watching the people who passed them. " _Now_."

"Never thought I'd agree with you Dean-o," Gabriel gave him a lop sided smirk before the three of them followed the two hunters. "But there's a first time for everything."

"You're coming with us?" Evelina said as they stopped at the top of the escalators.

"It's after midnight," Castiel said. "The creatures are out in their tropes."

"And what better protection could you ask for, love?" Crowley gave a slight smirk as they descended the escalator, heading for the Bakerloo line to Charring Cross.

Evelina kept her head turned away from the outside world and buried her face against Dean's suit jacket, feeling safe with her current company. She could hear Crowley and Gabriel bickering, hear Castiel's soft monotone voice speaking to Dean over the buzz of the station and retreated into her mind thinking how the weirdest things made her feel the safest.


	42. Habitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> habitation; the fact of living in a particular place

Evelina walked in front as they departed Charring Cross tube station with Dean trailing behind with the others. Her feet were hurting and she was starting to feel the cold; she hoped Gabriel had managed to grab some of her warmer clothes. 

They entered as a group into the lobby of the Diogenes Club and were greeted by Mycroft who came strolling down the stairs, much to Evelina's dismay.

"Miss Clarke," he looked at her then at the rest of her entourage, glancing Dean up and down. "Bad news about Baker Street I'm afraid."

"No one was hurt," she said, lifting her gaze to Mycroft. "Bad news for you though I'll bet, you get to home us since we no longer seem to have one."

She passed him by, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder as she scaled the stairs and turned left; Mycroft might be in her bad books but she trusted him to give Dean a room in his grand old place, perhaps even Crowley and the angels too. 

She scaled a second set of stairs and found her way to the room that Mycroft had originally housed Leonard and Kirk in the first time round. She knocked three times and waited patiently and was surprised to find that it was Kirk who answered the door.

"Eva," he said, looking a little surprised. "You're okay?"

"You mean you weren't told?" she frowned.

"We thought you might have gone back," he said, opening the door a little wider to let her in. 

"No, we were on our way back," she answered stepping through the door. "Gabriel caught us at the tube station, said something had happened. I'm glad you're okay though."

As much as Kirk got her back up, she was genuinely glad he was okay and he passed her a genuine smile that made his eyes look completely other worldly. 

"So I guess we're stuck back here then," he said, taking a seat on one of the extravagant love seats where Evelina had her first proper conversation with Leonard. 

"For the time being," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder as she stood behind the sofa. "But it's safe, no more demons at the dance, promise."

Kirk's shoulder felt tense and Evelina squeezed it ever so slightly before she caught sight of a figure huddled up on the bed through the large double doors.

"Is he sleeping?" she said, gently squeezing Kirk's shoulder again; he seemed to relax a little.

"I don't think so," he answered.

With one final, gentle squeeze to his shoulder, Eva walked away and slipped into the bedroom where Leonard was hunched up. She closed the door gently behind her and flicked on one of the ornate lamps by the bed and sat herself down.

"Leave me alone, Jim," Leonard grouched without moving.

"Jim has," she answered, tugging off her shoes.

There was silence for a moment and then Leonard stood from the bed and hesitantly looked over at her. She was unscathed and literally looked the same as she always did, if not a little bit tired.

"You weren't at Baker Street?" he raised a single brow and walked over to her, planting himself beside her. "We thought you might have gone back."

"No, Dean and I went to Nathaniel's bar," she looked away from him. "Someone killed Nathaniel's brother."

"I'm sorry, kid," he said, bowing his head.

"I don't feel like this case is going anywhere," she finally confessed. "I feel like I'm failing everything. I lost Higgins, I have no idea where this High Warlock is and I'll be god damned if I ever find Balthazar. And worst of all? I feel like I'm failing you. You have a home to get back to and you still don't know what happened to you or why and I'm so sorry."

Her voice wavered on the apology and she hung her head as Leonard watched a teardrop drip from the end of her nose and disappear into the fibers of the Persian rug beneath their feet. 

"You didn't lose that detective," Leonard awkwardly placed a hand on her back. "That was the other guys fault."

"But I can't find him," she said, another tear hitting the floor.

"Kid, it's not like you ain't tryin'," he reassured her. "You went up to that asylum looking for him, no police for back up."

"And got ambushed by demons," she said sardonically. 

"Eva, you're tryin' you're damn hardest," his hand found its way to her shoulder. "You've got a lot on your mind, a lot to take care of. You ain't failin' anyone; Jim and I know that this whole situation is messed up and we know you're doing all you can. I'm just damn glad you weren't home when the explosion went off."

"Likewise," she sniffled, before she gave him a half hug. "Thanks."

"Just take it easy, alright?" he said when he let go of her. "You look beat, get some sleep."

She grabbed her shoes and gave Leonard a smile before leaving him on the edge of the bed. She ruffled Kirk's hair softly in passing and left the room, stepping out into the empty and quiet hall.


	43. Repast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> repast; a meal.

In the hall, Eva took a moment to compose herself before she headed back down one of the staircases to find Mycroft waiting at the bottom. 

"I have a room ready for you, to share with the Gabriel fellow," he said, leaning against the banister rail. "I have set your other friends into their own rooms too, Sherlock is just getting settled." 

"Thanks," she said, catching his eyes for a mere moment. 

"I apologise, Miss Clarke," he said as she was about to walk by. "For my past words and actions. I do hope you'll join us for dinner."

"Dinner?" Eva questioned.

"It's been a hard day for all of you," Mycroft stood upright and pulled his jacket straight. "Perhaps good company is what you need to put your mind at ease even just for a little while."

Eva gave him a skeptical look but gave a curt nod before Mycroft nodded down the hall to the doors behind her.

"Third on the left," he said. "Dinner will be served in half an hour."

With a brief smile, Eva turned on her heel and headed for the specified door. When she opened it, she found Gabriel sat at the foot of an ornate wooden bed looking back at her. He'd done his best to tidy away her things; a small bag of clothes sat in the corner, a few books sat on the desk and her hunting boots stood by the door.

"Hungry?" she questioned as she dropped her heels by her boots. "Mycroft has dinner ready for us."

"Just us?" Gabriel asked.

"No," she said, grabbing a change of clothes. "All of us."

\---

Once she'd changed into jeans and a clean shirt, she and Gabriel headed down the hall and down the stairs. It was just past 9pm and The Diogenes Club was silent until they reached the tiled lobby; Eva heard light laughter and the buzz of conversation.

Where Mycroft had held the dance, he'd now set out a long dining table with him sat at the top with four chairs to either side of him. Leonard and Kirk sat across from one another, Dean next to Leonard, then Castiel and Crowley on the left of Mycroft and on the right sat Kirk, two empty spaces and then Sherlock.

Eva and Gabriel took their seats and warm smiles greeted them from around the table. Cutlery gleamed in the light of the chandelier and bubbles rose in the flutes of champagne; it was like anything bad had been left outside of the doors and nothing but good company resided within.

Eva took a sip of her champagne and looked around the table; Leonard was smiling at something Kirk was talking about, Dean and Castiel were chatting and Dean was grinning like an idiot and at the end of the table, Sherlock had taken a keen interest in Crowley.

"You okay kiddo?" Gabriel nudged her, rousing her from her observations.

"For once," she turned to him with a tired smile. "I'm perfectly fine."


	44. Enamour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enamour; to be filled with love for

That night, Eva slept for around three hours before she woke with too many things on her mind. Gabriel had vacated the club along with Castiel to keep a keen eye on things in the outside world, but Crowley had stayed whilst everyone else seemed to sleep easily in their beds.

Eva delicately rubbed at her temples and brought her phone to life; 02:47am. She sighed heavily and pulled herself out of bed, delicately pulling back the nets on the window. The street outside was wet with rain and it still poured, dripping from ledges and gutters. The road was bathed in the soft orange glow of the street lights and no traffic moved. All that was heard was the gentle _pat pat pat_ of the rain as it fell. 

She sat at the foot of the bed and yawned; she didn't much feel like sleeping. All manner of things were going around her head; Balthazar, Leonard & Kirk, Higgins, the Irish man, Dean and the whole Cupid thing. 

_Dean._

Dean was one thing she could deal with right now. She could summon Cupid here right now and get some answers. It wouldn't be the whole story but at least he'd tell her whether or not he was the one she was meant to be with.

She pulled on a jumper over her sleep wear and padded, bare foot, out of the room and down the dark corridor. The rain trickled down the large arched windows and cast strange patterns onto the carpet and as she crept down the main staircase, she noticed a soft lamp light coming from the main drawing room to the right of the lobby.

"Hello love."

Crowley sat in a winged back, deep red, leather chair with his legs crossed and a tumbler of scotch in his hand. He looked comfortable, looked like he'd been there a while since the bottle of scotch on the table was over half gone. 

"You're up," Eva stated as she stood bare footed in front of him. 

"No rest for the wicked," Crowley quipped a smile. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged. "Lot on my mind."

Crowley set the tumbler aside and sat up a little straighter, waiting for her to continue with a raised brow over his chestnut coloured eyes.

"Mostly the case," she said, scratching her cheek. "But right now...it's Dean."

"What about him?" he asked.

"Gabriel said something to him, said that the angels and cupid knew something about me and him," she said with a furrowed brow. "I wanna know if it's true."

"Do you?" Crowley asked. "You want to know if your future lies with him?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I wanna know if this is what the rest of my life is going to be. Will you help me?"

Crowley stood and smoothed out his suit, filled up his tumbler and gave a nod, before Eva led him across the large drawing room and pulled open two cupboard doors at the bottom of the alcohol cabinet. She handed the demon some herbs, some chalk, a bowl and some candles before he set them up in the right order and summoned Cupid. 

He wasn't as handsome as the other angels, a little rounder and lacking in clothes, a little too chipper and loving, but he was Cupid after all. 

"Cupid," Eva greeted him. "Haven't seen you since Sioux Falls."

"That still upsets me," he said. "What do you want with me this time?"

"Couple of questions," she said as Crowley swirled his scotch around his glass. "I know you can't say who is my soul mate, but you can say who isn't, right?"

"Yes," he answered. 

"Dean Winchester," she said. "Is he marked for me?"

She wasn't sure what answer she wanted and her stomach turned a little as she watched Cupid closely. 

"He is not," he said. "Your soul mate is here, close by, but he is not Dean. Dean Winchester belongs to another, he has already wed."

A heavy silence filled the room and the candles flickered on the floor ever so slightly. Crowley looked up from the depths of his drink and Eva stared at Cupid, unblinking. 

"What?" she frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Cupid said. "His heart is paired to another in love and matrimony, however this does not deter him from giving the puppy eyes to you."

"But-"

"I'm sorry, young Eva," he cut her off. "Dean Winchester belongs to another."

"Who?" she said, feeling like her feet were stuck in cement. "When? For how long? Do the other angels know?"

"Castiel is aware, yes," he said. "Gabriel was not. He is married to Lisa."

"He's got a god damn step son," Eva took a stumbling step backwards and Crowley caught her by one arm. "Why would he do this, why would he not say?"

"Enough questions love," Crowley set his drink down and steadied her on her feet before turning his attention to the rather large angel. "You said her soul mate was close by."

"He is but I am under oath not to say who he is," Cupid looked between them both. "But he will change your life should you let him. He will give you his heart and he will give you a home and that is all I will say."

Within the blink of an eye, he'd gone and Crowley and Eva were left in the silence of the drawing room with nothing but the _pat pat pat_ of the rain on the window.

"Eva?" Crowley said, still with his hands on her shoulders.

Her shoulders had tensed, her fists clasped and she shrugged the demon off before running up the main staircase three steps at a time, not caring who she woke. She stopped to change her clothes before continuing her tirade, she'd want to be out of this place to cool off once she'd finished and as she pulled on her boots, she shoved open the door to the room in which Dean was sleeping quite soundly.

"You liar!" she shoved him harshly, waking him from his slumber and probably everyone else who was sleeping in the whole place. "You're married?!"

"What?" Dean was groggy with sleep. 

"I just spoke with Cupid because I was losing my damn mind over how I feel about you and how you might feel about me," she seethed. "And he tells me you're meant for another, already bonded in love and matrimony. You make me sick. You let me kiss your cheek, hold your hand and talk to you like I have. I trusted you."

"Eva, wait," Dean had jolted awake now as her words met his ears. "I can-"

"Explain? Don't," she spat. "I forgave you every time Dean. Every mistake was forgiven, every apology was accepted. I'm done, go home."

"You need help on this case Eva, no," he said.

"Go home," she glared at him. "Your _family_ needs you."

The word felt bitter in her mouth and Dean looked stricken.

"I don't want you here," she continued. "I don't want your help and you can tell Castiel the same thing. He comes here demanding the whereabouts of Balthazar but does not have the decency to mention your situation. We're done here, go home."

"Eva," Dean made a grab for her as she left the room but missed. "Eva don't you go outside!" 

Out in the hall she met the faces of a bleary eyed Kirk wearing only jogging bottoms and a wide awake Leonard who was still dressed in his clothes from dinner. 

"What's goin' on?" Leonard asked as she saw Sherlock and Crowley at the top of the main staircase. 

"I'm going for a walk," she said, walking by him. 

She passed Crowley and Sherlock as Dean bolted from his room after her and Leonard and Kirk followed gingerly behind.

"Don't be stupid," Dean grabbed her wrist and with her other hand she slapped him hard around the face. 

"Get off of me," she growled as he held his face. 

She reached for the door and pulled it open as the others now stood in the lobby, encircling Dean in a weary circle. With all the attention on Dean, none of them saw Leonard follow after Eva into the dark, damp night.

\----

"You can't be out here on your own," Leonard said when he finally caught up to her halfway down the street. "It ain't safe."

"Go back," she said, not looking at him. "I'll be okay."

He stopped her, encircling her arm gently with his fingers as they stopped between two street lights. 

"You're upset," he said; the rain drops were sitting in his hair, glittering in the glow of the lights. "Come back, we'll talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said, giving him a sad smile. "Dean's going home, to his family, to his wife. I'm going to solve this case, by myself. And everyone is going to live happily ever after, the end."

Leonard tried to hide the look of shock on his face but when he saw her expression falter, he knew he hadn't managed to do it as well as he thought. 

"I'm sorry kid," he tightened his fingers around her wrist a little. "But please come back to the club, it's not safe out here."

"You should really listen to him," a sullen sounding voice came from the shadows that were suddenly lit by an electric blue light, showing the flash of a sad looking face. " _Please_ , listen to him."

Leonard drew a sharp breath and Eva pulled him back behind her, glancing into the shadow where the electric blue light flickered.

"Show yourself," she said. "Are you a Djinn?"

"No," the voice answered and a foot stepped out into the light of the street; a leopard printed creeper placed itself into a puddle. "I'm Sebastian and I apologize."

Eva didn't have time to ask him what for or even register that she'd heard his name, before he thrust his hands out and knocked both herself and Leonard to the floor. They were out cold, laying on the damp pavement before Sebastian heaved a heavy sigh.

He never wanted to hurt anyone, he never wanted it to come to this. He wished they'd have both run back to where they'd come from, there was no telling what Moriarty would do when he got his hands on the girl, the man had been a bonus really, another plaything for the malevolent man that was waiting less than patiently for the high warlocks return.


	45. Choler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _archaic_ ; anger or irascibility

When Dean awoke the following morning, a bruise had flourished across the left side of his face where Eva's hand had slapped him good and hard. He expected she'd returned at some point in the night, expected her to be stood downstairs waiting for him with a sheepish look across her face and an apology waiting on her lips.

But when he was dressed and making his way down the stairs, he saw an array of uncomfortable expressions plastered to the faces of the few people who were standing in the lobby of The Diogenes Club.

The first face he saw was Gabriel's. The angels face was white with worry, his feet pacing to and fro across the lobby. Then he saw Sherlock stood by a silver haired man with a small notebook in his grasp whist he jotted notes; Sherlock was in his long navy coat with his scarf around his neck looking like he was about to set off out somewhere with Mycroft between the pair looking increasingly perturbed. 

Then he saw Kirk glaring back at him, leaning on the entryway into the sitting room to Dean's right. He looked away, looking for Castiel, but the angel was nowhere in sight. 

"She didn't come back," Kirk was at his side now, his words cold. " _They_ didn't come back."

Dean looked at him, puzzled for a moment; Eva had left on her own, hadn't she? Stormed out in the usual way?

"They?" he finally said.

"Leonard followed after her," Kirk's bright blue eyes blazed with anger and Dean raised an eyebrow. "While everyone else was crowded around you, he ran out after her to see if she was okay. Why didn't you?"

"She was mad at me!" Dean retaliated, earning the attention of everyone else in the lobby. "She hit me in the face! I doubt she wanted me to run after her! It ain't even like you know her, who the hell are you?"

"It's not like Bones even knows her but he ran out after her," Kirk got right up into Dean's face, crystal blues boring into him. "Out into that wet, dark night where the monsters are out in their troves. You let her walk out of here when you should have dragged her back."

"You let Leonard walk out of here after her," Dean countered. 

"I didn't let him do anything," Kirk squared up to him. "I didn't see him leave. But hey, this morning? Maybe he just decided to skip out for breakfast on his own in a place he's not familiar with."

With a grunt, Dean walked by the irate blonde and placed himself next to Sherlock.

"This is the reason for your calling, Detective Inspector," Sherlock nodded to Dean as Lestrade looked him up and down. "Eva left that mark upon his face before she left this place."

"This isn't my fault," Dean argued.

"Au contraire," Sherlock looked at him. "Had you been honest with Eva from the start, perhaps she wouldn't have gone snooping from the angel of love. And then, perchance, she wouldn't have roused you from your sleep to tell you just what she thought of you before deciding it was a good idea to go for a stroll to cool off."

"If it wasn't me it was going to be someone or something else that made he walk out of that door," Dean growled.

"Perhaps," Sherlock shrugged. "But you have a track record of upsetting her, Dean Winchester, it was bound to be you sooner or later."

"What," Dean sneered with a laugh. "You gonna arrest me?"

"No," Lestrade answered, his face set into a stony expression. "There's nothing to bloody arrest you for, but Sherlock has a point."

"I don't believe this," Dean folded his arms like a petulant child. "She's a grown adult making her own decisions!" 

"Decisions you bloody influenced!" Crowley's voice roared from behind him, making him jump off of the ground in fear. "You better hope she doesn't come to any harm, Winchester."

"Find anything?" Sherlock looked over the demon curiously before Crowley produced a mobile phone and a piece of charred brick. "Eva's phone, the crack on the screen suggests it's been dropped, the radius suggests it slid from a pocket, her jacket maybe."

Sherlock's fingers moved deftly over the damaged screen but he found nothing untoward on her phone; no clue of where she was or what had happened.

"This has magic burns," Crowley said, holding up the small piece of charred red brick. "The white stuff. Couple of rows down between the street lamps there's evidence that something magical was there, that's where I found her phone by the curbside."

"Something or someone took them," Gabriel spoke up, his pacing stopped. "You said magic burns."

"Only Warlocks are capable of leaving such magic burns," Crowley answered him. "Nathaniel wouldn't hurt her."

"What if it wasn't Nathaniel?" Gabriel said. "You're right, course, Nathaniel would never hurt her, but that wouldn't stop another Warlock hurting her. He's strong, but Nathaniel isn't feared. Somebody wanted to hurt her."

Both the angel and the demon turned their expressions to Dean who shrank back towards the staircase as Kirk stepped forwards.

"Please let me help," he begged. "Bones is out there with her."

"Alright," Sherlock nodded once. "You can come with me and the King. Lestrade, I want access to the CCTV cameras on this street, Crowley can help with the supernatural aspect of things."

"Granted," Lestrade answered. "We'll find her."

"I'll drive around," Dean offered. "See if I can find her any place, could be a complete coincidence, could've lost her phone on purpose."

"Yeah, doubtful bucko," Gabriel curled his lip. "I'm going to go and find out if anyone's heard anything. Have fun here on your own." 

Sherlock and his troupe left via the door and Gabriel left in a flutter of wings, all of them leaving Dean stood alone in the vast tiled lobby. This wasn't his fault; Eva had made the decision to leave The Diogenes Club all on her own, she didn't have to take a walk, but her anger towards him? That was his fault. He was married, he did have a step-kid, but he just couldn't bring himself to tell Eva; he couldn't break her heart like that.

Except now she'd broken it for him, her curiosity getting the better of her. He knew she'd find out eventually, but he didn't want it to happen like this. Maybe he shouldn't have flirted, shouldn't really have stayed at all, this was her own case after all. It was Castiel's fault he was here, well, technically Balthazar's fault for going missing, but he was here because of that.

And Eva was gone because of him and his own foolish choices. He glanced around the empty lobby and headed back up the stairs to change. He wanted to check out the charred pavement himself, look for any supernatural signs other than 'magic burns'.

Anything beat sitting around The Diogenes Club feeling sorry for himself.


	46. Emancipate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emancipate; to free from restraint, influence, or the like.

Something stung. Something ached. Something felt like it was screaming inside of her. She could feel heat radiating from somewhere, warming her legs. She could feel something warm on her face, warm and wet and a dull pain made itself present as she came to.

She didn't remember much. A blue light, something with leopard print and the wet pavement. Her fingers twitched and splayed out on the floor, her hands ready to push her up, but a foot came down hard on her left hand; a sickening crack and her strangled scream filling the air around her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She whimpered as the pain flew up her arm, hot and sharp. The voice that filled her ears was Irish and though she couldn't see him, she could hear the malice in his tone.

"It's such a pleasure to finally have you here," he continued as footsteps circled her. "So much so that I don't want you to leave."

She could still feel the heat on her legs and as the man did a full circle of her, she slightly lifted her chin, gritting her teeth through the pain. 

There was a firey flicker to the room, shadows dancing against the cold walls and ceiling, She strained to see around, but the man helped her with that, hauling her up by the front of her shirt as she hissed in pain. 

"Rude of me not to show you around, wasn't it," he glowered at her as he held her to his eye level. "You've met Sebastian of course." 

He held her roughly by the shoulders, forcing her to stand on her weak and wobbling legs as he turned her in the Warlock's direction. 

She saw a slither of blonde hair slashed with black and a dejected looking expression against the light of the flames. The warlocks clothes were dirty and torn and where his sleeve was rolled up on his left arm, Eva noticed his markings of tiger stripes that reached as far as his knuckles.

"Wonderful specimen, isn't he?" the man quipped.

"He's not a specimen," she croaked. "He's a magical being."

The mans hand grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled hard as he laughed, forcing her face close to the flames of the fire that was lighting the room.

"Don't answer me back," his laughter stopped abruptly as Eva turned her face away from the flames, ignoring the sharp pain in her head. 

He pulled her upright with her hair and she squirmed and tired not to fight back. That's when she noticed the smell, rich and strong; Holy Oil. 

"Take a peek, go on," he said, his hands shoving her forwards, but keeping a firm hold on her elbows as she looked over the flames. "Think of it as a lost property box."

Eva coughed and blood spilt over her lips, there wasn't a part of her that wasn't screaming out for medical attention. She knew things were broken, bruised, ripped and slashed apart and when she didn't answer his sentence, he kneed her hard in the back of her right leg and she fell to the floor, kneeling just high enough to see over the flames.

Leonard sat, staring back at the scene quietly, a large cut covering the right side of his face where his head had hit the pavement, but the rest of him was relatively unscathed. Balthazar sat in the middle of the ring, brow set into an angered frown; Eva had seen that look before and on an angel, it was seldom ever a good thing to see.

And Higgins was curled up, head hidden in his arms not wishing to see what ensued.

"Higgins?" she rasped. "Higgins!" 

A handful of her hair was grabbed and pulled hard before he threw he back to the floor, Eva landing all her weight on her crushed hand as she screamed out, tears streaming her face. 

"My name is Moriarty," he gave a foul smirk as Eva turned to look up at his face for the first time. "And you're not going to get in my way."

He was smaller than she'd imagined, skinnier too with a head of short raven black hair and eyes so dark she could have mistaken him for a demon. 

"Sebastian will see to it that you don't get out from here," he gave a poisonous smirk. "And I'll deal with you when I get back."

He left the room, the door closing with a creak before Eva moved her eyes to the Warlock in the flickering light of the room.

He stood over her, towered even, and delicately lifted her as much as she tried to squirm away; she didn't trust him, he was the one that had brought them here in the first place.

"I won't hurt you," Sebastian said miserably. "Not unless he commands me to."

Eva did nothing but look at the Warlock, she gave no sound or verbal answer as he helped her off of the ground.

"Please, let me get you out of here," he said. "All of you."

"But he'll hurt you," she rasped. 

"That doesn't matter," he said. "You, you can stop him. That's what you were trying to do, isn't it? I saw how you fought at the dance at The Diogenes Club, I heard about your speech at Nathaniel's place."

"Did you kill Nathaniel's brother?" she asked, feeling woozy.

"He commanded it," Sebastian looked away. "I have to do whatever he says, I'm bound by blood magic until someone can break the curse."

"The talisman," Eva lifted her good hand to a bulky chain around the Warlock's neck from which hung an odd shape. "I can help you."

"Can you?" he said, turning his attention back to her. 

"I can...try," she answered, her head feeling lighter and lighter.

"That's all I can ask," he answered, before he caught her full weight in his arms. "Angel? You can teleport?"

"You're really going to let us out?" Balthazar frowned. "He'll be ever so angry with you, with us, with the City..."

"He's planning something big, but he won't let it out yet," Sebastian assured him. "He'll be mad, I can make it look like you fought your way out, if you can take your friends out of here and to somewhere safe." 

"And if he comes after her?" Leonard nodded to Eva's limp state through the flames.

"Then he'll have a hell of a fight on his hands," Sebastian looked at her fondly in his arms. "Help her save my City from him, help her fight. But first, help her rest."

Sebastian set her down and with just enough of his own magic, extinguished the ring of Holy Fire as Higgins stood, looking at Eva's beaten and bloody state as he stood by the angel. He hadn't seen her for he couldn't remember how long but this wasn't how he'd ever imagine seeing her again.

"She'll be alright," Leonard assured him as he knelt down beside her to check her pulse. "Looks worse than it is."

"And where are we going?" Balthazar asked, looking between the three faces. 

Leonard looked up at the Warlock, untrusting and Sebastian held up his hands and backed off. 

"I understand," he said. "You don't trust me."

"Oh I do," Leonard said. "I don't trust your compadre. He's got ways of getting information out of you and since he blew up our last place of residence, I'd rather he didn't lay a finger on this one. But thanks for your help, we appreciate it."

"Please," Sebastian almost begged. "Help her. She'll need it."

"We promise," Balthazar sighed. "Now where are we going?"

Leonard leant to the angels ear and informed him quietly before Leonard and Higgins took Eva's hands and Balthazar took theirs, leaving the awful dark room in a flutter of wings before appearing in the lobby of The Diogenes Club, just as everyone was returning from their search and rescue missions.


	47. Aegis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aegis; the protection, backing, or support of a particular person

Blood was drying on her lips and around her wounds as several bodies crowded around her. Leonard held them all back as he took on his doctoring role. 

"She needs a hospital," he said, holding two fingers to a feeble pulse in her neck.

"She can't go to hospital," Dean answered. "No offence to the DI over there but you don't want the media or anything sniffing around."

"Hate to agree but Dean-o is right," Gabriel was at Eva's other side, golden eyes fixed on the crimson markings that covered her. "Get her upstairs to bed, I'll help."

Leonard took her arms and Gabriel gently took her legs and helped Leonard up the stairs with the weight of her body between them. They laid her on her bed and looked at one another.

"She's in a seriously bad way," Leonard looked concerned. "Her pulse is weak, I'm sure she'll have internal bleeding after the way he threw her around."

"I'm afraid he's right, brother of mine," Balthazar appeared beside Gabriel. "Long time no see but we can get into that later. Where's Cas? He could help."

"The guy in the trench coat?" Leonard's brow furrowed. "Isn't he tethered to Dean who she wants nothing to do with?" 

"Good point," Gabriel raised a brow. "But she needs the help."

"That's what the Warlock said," Balthazar eyed Leonard carefully, head lolling to one side. 

"The warlock?" Gabriel asked curiously.

"Can we get into this later?" Leonard said. "She needs help."

"I'm on it," Gabriel said before he vanished in a flutter of wings. 

"You're not from here, are you?" Balthazar said once Gabriel had vanished. "I can tell there's something...fuzzy about you."

"Long story," Leonard said with a curt nod as if to answer the angels question before he moved to Eva's side. "She'll explain when she wakes up if you plan on sticking around. She'll be mighty glad you and the officer are off her mind now."

There was a light knock at the door and Leonard turned to see Crowley and Kirk in the doorway, peering in cautiously. 

"Anything we can do to help?" Crowley asked, eyes lingering on Eva's very still form. 

"You need anything?" Kirk asked.

"Hot water, towels, any first aid stuff you can find would be a great help," Leonard looked between them. "Crowley? Maybe you could give her some words of encouragement, kids gonna need it."

"What do you mean off her mind?" Balthazar asked as Leonard rolled up his shirt sleeves.

"She had a lot on with this case, you and Higgins were just a part of that," he said. "But there's time for this later okay? I need to take care of her."

With an understanding nod, Balthazar left the room, casting an eye over the demon who was knelt by the bed, holding her broken left hand like a delicate flower. 

A silence filled the room as Leonard looked at the demon. Eva had called him the King of Hell and with a name like that, he should have been feared, but Crowley had done nothing but help her and here he was, by her bedside, providing care.

"You're not as feared as she makes you out to be are you?" Leonard said as he looked over the cuts on her legs where her jeans were torn.

"Not to her no," Crowley answered without taking his eyes from her rapidly bruising face. "Perhaps to you and the likes of Kirk, I'm slightly feared and in Hell, they all fear me. She makes me kind."

There was a light knock at the door and Kirk stood in the doorway with Balthazar by his side, one holding a bowl of water, the other with towels and bits of a first aid kit and Eva's rucksack.

"Gabriel said you'd need this," Balthazar held it out to him with the towels. "We'll leave you to do your thing."

Leonard took the bag and the towels and the bits from the kit and set them down before he took the bowl, thanked them both and closed the door. Crowley stood and made to leave, but Leonard patted his shoulder and allowed him to stay. 

"What do you mean by she makes you kind?" Leonard asked as he set to work on her; much like they would do in a hospital after a car accident, he started cutting at her clothes, and ripping them apart to expose the damage beneath. 

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for her," Crowley sat at the other side of the bed to the one that Leonard was working on. "Or Alicia. They're wonderful girls who don't always want the help they're offered, but they will always need it." 

Leonard thought about how Eva wanted to do this whole case on her own and how she was reluctant to have anyone help at all as he wiped the drying blood from her wounds. 

"I'll _kill him_ ," Crowley's voice turned dark and Leonard glanced up. "Whatever he's done to harm her, I will harm him several times worse."

"He's not your life to take," Leonard told him gently. "He's hers. I know it pains you to see this, pains me too, she's a great kid and I'd like nothing more than to plant my fist in the guys face for this, but it ain't my place."

"You're right," the demon answered. "But perhaps she'll let me shatter his hand like he has hers."

He gently touched the swollen hand in question, the fingers blackening with the bruises and broken bones beneath the skin, her fingernails a deep, dark purple.

"She'll need the help, that's what the Warlock said," Leonard said, wrapping one of her legs in a damp towel tightly to stem the bleeding. "He practically begged it."

"So it is the Warlock," Crowley said.

"No, it's Moriarty," Leonard said. "Moriarty is controlling the Warlock, blood magic or something."

"Hm," Crowley mused. "We'll talk about this later."

The demon reached over the bed and took one of the towels and Eva's rucksack before pulling it onto his knee. He pulled out several tiny bottles of vodka, a suture needle, thread and suture scissors as Leonard watched curiously. 

"A hunters first aid kit," Crowley said, catching his curious look. "I'll see to her head, you see to the rest of her."

Leonard gave a silent nod as Crowley cleaned off her face and inspected her face. Her left eye was swelling a little, bruising in a foul yellow and a cut spanned her cheek which he very carefully cleaned with the vodka and stitched with the suture. 

"I expected her to yelp," Crowley said, concerned. 

"She's still breathing," Leonard observed, lifting her wrist to find her pulse. "It's faint but it's there. I thought Gabriel was on it?"

"I am," Gabriel appeared, his hand tight around Castiel's coat sleeve as the blue eyed angel looked at the mess Eva had become. 

"Dean is inconsolable," he said, looking at Gabriel. 

"He'll live," Gabriel shrugged. "She might not."

Leonard had just about finished pushing together a wound on her leg with butterfly stitches before Castiel took his place on the bed. 

"Internal Cas," Gabriel told him. "They can take care of the rest."

Castiel let his hands hover just above Eva's body as he closed his eyes.

"She has broken ribs, a broken hand, internal bleeding, fractures in her legs and severe bruising," he listed. "I can fix it." 

He opened his eyes and leant over the bed, gently taking Eva's broken hand in his. A golden light shone out, crawling up and down her body before she gasped in a shaky breath and clasped Castiel's hand tight with her newly healed hand. 

Pain shot through her and her face felt tight where Crowley had stitched her back together. Castiel shook his hand out of her grip and left the room while she writhed from the pain of her external injuries. Gabriel followed him out as Eva thrust out her hand, tears starting to slide down her face. 

It was Leonard who grabbed her hand and took Castiel's place as Crowley stroked her hair back from her face in an attempt to soothe her. 

"It hurts," she whimpered.

"I know kid," Leonard said holding her hand tight. "I'm gonna fix it but you gotta stay still for me okay? Crowley's right here too, you're gonna be fine."

She turned her head slightly and saw the demon by her other side as he tentatively took her other hand and held it tight. 

"You're okay, Eva," he assured her. "Leonard's going to make sure you're even better."

"I just need to stitch and clean a few things and you can get some rest okay kid?" Leonard said, sliding his hand from hers.

She gave a nod, her fingers like a vice around Crowley's palm as Leonard tended to her other wounds as tentatively as he could. 

It was a good hour before Leonard had her all cleaned and stitched up. She managed to change into something more comfortable and Leonard and Crowley helped her back to bed.

"Rest up love," Crowley planted a kiss to her forehead. "I'll pop by later."

Crowley left the room and Leonard was sat on the edge of the bed, checking the stitches that Crowley had put in her face.

"You feelin' okay?" Leonard asked.

"Yeah, Cas fixed me up, right?" she said. "Dean here?"

"Right," Leonard nodded, tucking the sheets around her. "Ain't sure about Dean."

"I don't want to see him," she said, narrowing her eyes on Leonard's head. "You need to sort that cut out."

"Just needs cleanin' kid," he gave a brief smile. "You were more important, get some sleep."

He made to stand from the bed but Eva pulled him back. 

"Go clean that wound up and come back," she said. "Please? Keep me company, I don't feel like sleeping."

Her hand was almost holding onto his and Leonard felt his cheeks warm as she looked up at him. 

"Unless you have something to do or..."

"I don't," he said. "I'll be back in a little while, just rest up okay?"

"Okay," she said dropping his hand. "In a little while."

"I promise, kid."


	48. Juncture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> juncture; a particular point in events or time.

Leonard stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom in the room that he and Jim were currently occupying and took a long hard look at the laceration on his forehead. It wasn't the mess he was expecting, nothing more than a graze that was now hidden in his chestnut hair. 

When he came out, Jim was sitting on one of the couches staring off into space as if something were about to appear before his very eyes. When he heard the bathroom door click, he snapped out of his thoughts and turned his attention to Leonard.

"I thought something bad had happened," Jim said as Leonard pulled his shirt straight.

"Somethin' bad did happen, Jim," he answered gruffly. "Or did you miss the part where we were kidnapped and also the part where Eva was nearly killed?"

For a moment, the blonde looked sheepish and he looked away from Leonard. The doctor was unscathed, still walking, talking and breathing; what more did he want?

"How is she?" Jim asked after a moment. "She looked in a bad way. Will she be awake soon?"

"She's awake now," Leonard said and Kirk's eyes widened in surprise. "I know, amazin' right? The little guy in the trenchcoat did somethin' to her, she's all better apart from surface wounds."

"He couldn't fix those?" Kirk frowned.

"Gabriel just told him internal," Leonard shrugged. "I could deal with the rest, Crowley helped me out." 

"She's gonna be okay?" Kirk asked. 

"Looks that way," Leonard carded a hand through his own hair and stifled a yawn. "I promised her I'd get back to her when I'd sorted my head out. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Kirk nodded. "I'll be down with everyone else if you want me."

"Sure."

Leonard left the room and headed back down the hall, the stairs, another hall and knocked softly on Eva's door. Gabriel greeted him from inside and then left him alone with Eva, who was sat up comfortably in the bed.

"Told you I'd come back," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He noticed she'd turned the clock around and that Gabriel had put some books on the bed with her but she hadn't touched them. He hated that look on her face, that empty, hollowed out look. He was used to the mischief, the anger and that silly little smile she had, all of this just felt wrong. 

He was puzzled as to why she hadn't asked about Higgins; had she forgotten he was there? He couldn't blame her if she had. He glanced at her while she toyed with the edge of the duvet; Crowley had done a good job with the wound on her face, it was just a neat row of stitches. 

"You okay, kid?" Leonard asked the silence of the room. 

He was answered by Eva's body weight latching onto him, her arms locked around his neck and her face gently against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, her voice still a dry rasp in her throat. "I never meant for you to get dragged into whatever that was."

"Watch your stitches kid," he said. "Don't apologise, it wasn't your fault."

"You shouldn't have come after me," she said letting him go. "You wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"If I hadn't have come after you, you might be dead," he countered. "You know Higgins is okay now, don't you? Balthazar too?"

She gave a small nod, her hands still toying with the edge of the duvet, her eyes looking anywhere but at Leonard.

"That's gotta be a weight off your mind," he said; he thought about reaching out and touching her, but kept his hands to himself. 

"Something less to worry about," she said. "But this Moriarty? He wasn't what I expected. He's...terrifying. I thought he was going to kill me. We're only alive and free because of the High Warlock's kindness. He's going to come looking for us."

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't," Leonard said. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry?" she snorted. "I am responsible for everyone under this roof, angels and Crowley exempt."

"And that doesn't mean you gotta face him on your own," he said, this time taking her previously broken hand in his. "No one's making you and everyone's backin' you kid; we wanna help, let us."

Eva almost jumped at the contact, but his warm hand covering hers felt like a sorely needed comfort. She gave him a sad smile and gently squeezed his hand. 

"You want to help me save the City? The Warlock? And get rid of Moriarty?" she questioned. 

"Yeah," he nodded. "I do."

"It'll be dangerous," she said, still holding his hand. "And weird and we'll need a plan."

"Alright," Leonard agreed. "But not for a few days okay, you need to rest, let these wounds settle down a little before you bust all the stitches fightin' some more."

"Cas can fix them fully in a few days," she said.

"Why not now?" Leonard frowned; he was now cautiously aware she was tentatively stroking the back of his hand as she spoke. "He fixed your insides."

"Cas has to recharge his batteries," she smiled a little before the sting in her cheek caused her to frown. "It uses a lot of his energy to do something like that, he needs rest too. Cuts and bruises heal on their own, he doesn't need to fix every last little thing."

"And can't every angel heal?" Leonard asked, now inquisitive about his supernatural new friends. 

"No," Eva smiled, delicately squeezing his hand. "Cas is a healer, Gabriel can resurrect but not persistently; he couldn't bring me back every time and Balthazar? I'm not sure what Balthazar's thing is to be honest."

"Chronokenisis, telekenisis, teleportation, super strength and spell casting," Balthazar appeared with a mischievous grin on his face and Leonard snatched his hand back as Eva glanced to the angel. "To name but a few, darling."

"Okay, you're special," Eva raised an eyebrow. "We get it. You're every bit as good as your brothers."

"I'm the good looking one," Balthazar gave a heavy sigh. "Besides, I heard you talking about me and Gabe and dear little Cassy."

"Shouldn't be eavesdropping," Eva said, settling herself down in the bed as Leonard stood. 

"My apologies," Balthazar rolled his blue eyes and took Leonard's now vacant spot. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered. 

"Alright then."

And then the angel was gone again, leaving the room vacant aside from her and Leonard. 

"There's a book on the side," Eva yawned, speaking to Leonard as he edged closer. "Seventy second page there's a marking, draw it on the back of the door."

Leonard grabbed the book in question and found the page with the strange marking. To the best of his ability, Leonard scrawled it on the back of the door as Eva yawned again.

"Anythin' else?" Leonard asked, placing the book back where it belonged. 

Eva turned over gingerly, trying to avoid catching the places that hurt before she reached out and grabbed Leonard by the arm. 

"Keep me company," she said. 

Her voice was heavy with sleep, her eyes half closed and Leonard retook his perch on the side of the bed as her eyes closed and she drifted off. With the clock facing the wall now, Leonard had no idea what the time was or even what day it was.

He pulled back the curtain slightly and peered out; it looked like it was evening, the sky that beautiful deep, dark blue and the streetlamps bathing the street in their orange glow. He put the curtain back and laid himself beside Eva who never flinched a muscle as he got comfortable. 

She'd said weird.  
She'd said dangerous.

And Leonard had said _alright._


	49. Ameliorate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ameliorate; make (something bad or unsatisfactory) better.

Leonard awoke at some point in the night to the room bathed in a soft orange from the streetlights outside. It was raining again, heavily by the sounds of it as it pitter pattered against the glass and bounced on the pavement outside. 

It took Leonard a minute too long to realize that Eva was missing from his side and he scrambled up out of the bed and threw himself out into the hall. 

The Club was silent, everyone else must be asleep by now, so why wasn't Eva? Where had she gotten to? 

He slunk down the hall and peered over the banister rail of the main staircase; there was a soft light coming from the drawing room. He crept downstairs quietly and peered his head around the corner to find Crowley sat with the bottle of scotch and a tumbler.

"You won't find her in here," Crowley said after a sip of his scotch. 

"Where is she?" Leonard questioned.

"Dining room," Crowley nodded out of the door and across the lobby to one of the vast rooms where the ball had been held. 

"What's she doin' in there?" he frowned, following the demons gaze.

"I'm not sure," he shrugged. "But it seems she wants to be alone."

Leonard didn't believe that for one second; she'd asked him to keep her company, she looked terrified of the thought of being left on her own. 

With a parting glance to the demon, Leonard left the drawing room and strolled across the lobby into the dining room to find Eva sat at the head of the table with a few lit candles and some books laid out in front of her.

"You gave me the fright of my life," Leonard said, hesitantly walking towards her. "I woke up and you weren't there."

She glanced up and Leonard could see that her eyes were pink and puffy, even in the candle light and though there were books open before her, Leonard guessed that she'd barely even read a word, nevermind a page.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," Leonard pulled up a chair, seeing fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm just pleased you're alright."

She wiped her face on the back of her hand, taking care to avoid her stitches as Leonard watched her. 

"Talk to me kid," Leonard said, pushing the books out of her way. "What's got you so upset?"

Leonard almost kicked himself for asking; he knew why she was so upset, it was the whole damn case and not to mention what had just happened to the both of them. He wouldn't blame her for crying about the whole mess.

But when she gave him a completely different answer, he was a little surprised.

"Did Dean leave?" she asked. 

"I'm not sure kid," he answered. 

He wasn't sure; he'd not seen Dean since they'd come back and no one had mentioned his whereabouts. He knew Dean hadn't been to see her, not even Castiel had mentioned him. Come to think of it, he'd not seen the little guy since he'd healed Eva's internal injuries.

"You and Dean ain't on good terms, are you?" Leonard asked.

"No," she answered, staring at the flame of the candle. "I don't want him around. I don't want to have to worry about him not getting back to his wife and kid."

Eva grinded her teeth behind her lips; she'd cried out all the sad and now she was just filled with a bitter rage against Dean. He could have told her, but instead he concealed it, pretended like nothing had changed and let her believe that she and him were just like old times.

"Sorry," she shook her head. "You don't need dragging into that."

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose delicately. 

"You gotta stop apologisin' for things that ain't your fault," Leonard rested a hand on her shoulder. 

"Everything feels like my fault," she answered him. 

"Well, it ain't," he said. "You got Higgins and Balthazar back."

"But I didn't save The High Warlock," Eva looked at Leonard now, her eyes tired and her shoulders slumped as she crossed her arms on the edge of the table. "And Moriarty is going to be real mad we took his playthings. His next move could be fatal to the supernatural kind; he could go on a rampage. He has Sebastian at his beck and call and he has to obey him."

"Kid, I know what you're sayin', I do," Leonard's hand moved to her forearm and rested there. "But you can't save everyone. Fatalities, wounds, they're all gonna happen one way or another with Moriarty around. There's just some things you can't do, some people you ain't gonna be able to save."

"Like Nathaniel's brother," she said, staring at the flame again. "Like the ripped apart bodies from the hounds."

"Exactly."

"I don't want Moriarty to get his hands on you," she said, eyes still fixed on the flame.

"He won't," Leonard said. "Jim and I will be fine."

"No, Leonard," she blinked and then looked at him. "I don't want Moriarty to get his hands on _you_."

That one sentence put Leonard into silence and he felt his face warm. It was true; he'd hated Eva when he first met her, took all his anger out on her about being stuck where he was. He didn't trust her and he hadn't liked her.

But she'd proved herself to him; proved her willingness to help and saved his life the night of the ball along with the rest of them. It'd taken him time to believe, but Eva had convinced him. She'd done a lot for him and she was trying her hardest to keep them happy and alive; she was working on getting them home. 

And then Leonard surprised himself and opened his mouth, his stunned silence melting away.

"Why not?" he questioned. "Why not Jim? Or Mycroft? Sherlock even? Why just me?"

"Because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he got you," she said, looking right at him. "You saved my life, Leonard. You take care of me; you fixed me."

"I'm a doctor," he said. "That's my job."

"No, I'm not talking about physically fixing me, not that I'm not eternally grateful," she answered, shaking her head. "I just...I've never had to be responsible for someone like this before. Dean and his brother could take care of themselves and I never had to worry about Alicia. You made me care, Leonard; I don't know how, but you did and now I can't imagine anything bad happening to you. I can't let that happen."

A bright flash lit up the room, a lightening bolt illuminating the sky over the Club as the rain suddenly beat down harder followed by a trembling rumble of thunder which Eva winced at; she'd never liked storms.

Leonard stayed quiet after that for a moment, but his hand found its way to hers and squeezed it gently before he spoke again.

"I thought you'd died," he said. "When you were laid out on the floor in the lobby, you were so still, you were covered in blood. I wasn't right to see you that way, ain't right seein' you weak and miserable; that ain't who you are. You're a heck of a fighter, that's what you are. You're fightin' every damn day and not just for yourself but for the rest of us too."

"It's what I do," she said, giving a slight smile. "I fight."

"You've fought enough lately, kid," Leonard squeezed her hand again. "Y'gotta rest a while now." 

She closed the open book Leonard had pushed away with the hand that wasn't in his as if to solidify what he was saying. Another crack of lightening illuminated the room and she cringed at the sound of the thunder overheard.

"C'mon," he pulled her up carefully, mindful that the hand he was holding was the one that was crushed and though Castiel had fixed it, Leonard was still dubious about causing her any kind of pain. "Back to bed." 

She stood with him, her hand still in his, before she blew out the candles, plunging the room into darkness that only after a few seconds was lit brightly by another flash of lightening. 

"Wait," she squeezed his hand tight and he turned, looking for her through the darkness.

She reached out her other hand and felt for his face, finding a stubbly cheek, before she stood up on her toes and pressed a light kiss to his lips. The contact was a surprise for Leonard and he felt himself go rigid. His hand squeezed hers and his eyes fluttered shut before Eva was distracted by the thunder and pulled away. 

"You said bed," she said through the darkness. "I kinda wanna hide under the covers."

Silently, Leonard led her out of the dining hall and into the lobby, noticing that the lamplight had gone from the drawing room; Crowley must have gone to bed, that was, if he did actually in fact sleep. Either way, he was gone and the whole of the downstairs was now in darkness and silence. 

Leonard turned, using the lightning flash as a guide, before he dropped her hand and took her face in his hands. He returned her kiss, long and slow and Eva held onto his forearms before he broke off the kiss when the thunder rumbled.

"Don't ever make me see you like that again, kid," he said, resting his forehead against hers. "You damn near killed me."

She shook her head, eyes closed, still holding onto his forearms, albeit a little tighter. She couldn't love him, could she? He wasn't even from her time line, he existed in a world parallel to hers. Could that happen? Could people fall in love across time lines? Across universes?

Could love really span that far? Could Cupids arrows even fly that far? 

_Your soul mate is here, close by. He will change your life should you let him. He will give you his heart and he will give you a home._

Cupids words circled her head as Leonard led her back upstairs to the loud fall of the rain. He allowed her to crawl under the covers and pull them over her head. He put his arms around her protectively and she closed her eyes tight, curling up to his side.


	50. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _fallout_ ; the adverse results of a situation or action.

When the morning came, the outside world was still. It was early when Leonard woke, just after 6am and Eva was already awake at the side of him, staring. 

"What?" he asked sleepily. 

"You have a lot of freckles," she said matter of factly. "Like, _tonnes_."

The Diogenes Club was silent, not a floorboard creaked and Eva turned her attention to the pristine white ceiling above their heads as Leonard's eyes fell shut again and he dozed off. She was thinking about the first time she'd ever met Leonard, how angry he'd been, how unrelenting he'd been but then also how understanding he'd become, how accepting. 

His head was lolled towards her, his mess of chestnut hair flopping untidily over his forehead with one hand on his chest and the other hanging over the side of the bed. 

She felt better this morning apart from the fact the stitches in her face were still stinging. As Leonard shuffled, Eva made the decision to get up and get out for a little while. She grabbed some clothes, kissed Leonard on the forehead, changed and made her way downstairs.

"Someone seems better," Crowley called from the drawing room, startling her slightly. "Off out are we?"

She peered in, eyes scanning the demon as she pulled on a coat. He looked tired, disheveled and most unlike himself. 

"Much better," she nodded. "I'm going to Baker Street then I'm visiting Higgins."

"On your own?" Crowley raised a brow over one tired brown eye.

"On my own," she said firmly. "If Moriarty wants me, he can come get me."

"I don't think it's wise to be on your own, love," Crowley made to stand but Eva put her hand up. "Least take Gabriel."

"Cas and Gabe can watch over me," she said, touching her fingers to her stitches. "I don't need babysitting."

She turned on her heel and before Crowley could say another word, she was gone out of the door and marching down the path. 

\---

There was a chill in the air and she sunk her hands into her pockets. She was glad she'd opted for jeans and boots, glad she'd pulled on her old hunting jacket too. 

From Charring Cross station she caught the tube to Baker Street and was surprised when she turned onto the street to find it all still cordoned off by the police. An officer she knew was guarding the perimeter and beyond that she saw Lestrade's silver Mercedes parked right outside 221B. 

She approached the officer she knew and he gave her a friendly, if not surprised smile.

"Hey, Eva," he nodded. "Surprised to see you here, what happened to your face?"

He tapped the side of his cheek and Eva just gave a shrug.

"Just had a little mishap is all Williams," she answered. "Any way you can let me onto the scene?"

He glanced over his shoulder and lifted the tape as Eva ducked under and passed with a brisk kiss of thanks to his cheek before she began to stroll down the street. 

Bits of rubble lined the road along with glass and papers and all kinds of things that had escaped from 221 when the blast had gone off. She stepped over debris and finally stood outside the destroyed flat in question; the windows had blown through and part of the wall was missing and stood in the doorway of the main entrance, the silver haired detective looked back at her. 

"Bloody hell," he hurried over to her, leaving two other officers in the doorway taking notes. "I thought you were..."

"I'm alright, Greg," Eva shook her head, her eyes still on the building. 

"Sorry about Baker Street," he said, standing at her side also looking up to the destruction. "I can take you in if you like, see if you can salvage some things."

She looked to him then and he saw the long line of stitches in her cheek and winced slightly. The outline was a vivid pink, the stitching jet black, but Eva just looked back to the ruined abode. 

"Could you?" she asked sinking her hands into her pockets. "I want to see if I can recover any of my curse boxes."

"Curse boxes?" Lestrade gave her a skeptical look. 

"There's no curses in them, just cursed objects," she shrugged. "Course, it won't matter if they've been destroyed now."

She gave a feeble shrug and the DI patted her arm lightly and motioned for her to follow him. They stepped over debris closer to the door and he led her inside; the hall was mostly intact apart from a few busted floor tiles and a thick layer of dust that Eva assumed Mrs. H wouldn't be too thrilled about when she ever got back.

"Watch your step," Greg said to her as they scaled the stairs. "It's mostly sound but you can't be too careful." 

It seemed odd to Eva that the rooms of 221 Baker Street were silent. There was no violin, no television noise from Mrs. H, no footsteps from Sherlock parading about. She traced patterns in the settled dust as they scaled the stairs and Greg stepped aside on the landing at the top to let Eva through.

The door was blown from its hinges and stood leant against the wall. The coffee table was in pieces and parts of shattered mugs covered the red carpet along with the busted glass from the windows. Eva ignored the kitchen when she passed the doors and leant down in front of the fireplace, picking up Sherlock's beloved skull. 

She inspected it closely and found it undamaged before she carried it in both hands around the flat, inspecting other bits and pieces as Lestrade watched her curiously. 

She pulled Sherlock's scarf out from a pile of rubble, took his silken dressing gown from the back of his chair that had spewed stuffing everywhere and pulled his violin case from beside the fireplace that had partly collapsed. 

"Have these sent to the Diogenes Club would you?" she turned to Greg, still holding the skull. 

"Course," he nodded, hands deep in his pockets. "And your friend?"

He nodded to the skull and Eva looked at it in her hands before looking back to the DI.

"We're not done looking yet," she gave a quip of a smile and turned, heading for the hall towards her room.

Part of the wall had collapsed inwards, taking with it the door and half the things that Eva had on her desk. Curse boxes were splintered and busted, their innards destroyed or severely damaged. Her bed was broken in two, the chair beyond repair and her desk straining under the weight.

Still holding the skull, she climbed over the wreckage and pried open the draw in her desk, sliding her hand in to retrieve the one thing she cared about; the photograph of Alicia and her little girl. She took it out, folded it up and placed it in her jacket before she looked at the skull.

"Well, Sherlock will be happy you didn't get destroyed," she said, holding it in the palm of her hand. 

She clambered back over the wreckage and met Greg back in the main room where he had a box waiting for her to put in all the things she wished to take back. In passing, she dropped in the skull with a loving pat to the cranium and headed into the kitchen seeing that the microscope was still in one piece and Sherlock's set of slides. She threw in a couple more books that were unscathed and pulled open the bottom doors of the bookcase where she kept some of her herbs and things before throwing them in too. 

"That all?" Greg asked, looking at the small box of belongings. 

"Unfortunately," she answered sadly. "Sherlock's at the Diogenes, I don't think he's going anywhere."

"I'll drop them by personally," Greg nodded. "I guess you're going somewhere?"

"I want to visit Higgins," she answered, looking at the box; it really was measly but this was all they had left. "He's at St. Barts, right?"

"Ward 9, room 3," Greg nodded. "He's been asking for you actually."

She nodded slowly and then looked up to him, giving him a sad smile. 

"Are you okay, Greg?" she asked. 

"You," he gave a smile. "You're asking me if I'm alright? After what you've been through?"

"Yes," she answered. "I feel like no ones asked."

"I'm fine, Evelina, thank you," he answered. "Go see Higgins, he'll be happy to see you."

She gave a nod, glanced to the box again, placed her hands in her pockets and walked to what was left of the doorway.

"Um, Greg?" she said, turning back.

"Yeah?" he called over his shoulder as he put the lid on the box. 

"If they're panicking about my whereabouts when you get there..."

"I'll tell them," he said.


	51. Bijou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bijou ( _noun, archaic_ ); a jewel or trinket.

It was still only early when Eva left Baker Street that morning. The sky had darkened somewhat and there was a feel of rain in the air. She ducked under the tape at the end of the road, saying goodbye to Williams as she passed and turned left, heading back towards the tube station. 

It was busy on the platform with commuters in their trainers and businessmen yelling into their phones where they could get a half decent signal, but Eva could still pick out the things that didn't belong. A Djinn eyed her from a few meters away and she ducked further into the crowd, allowing herself to be pushed into the car when the tube rolled up. 

A siren sang on board and Eva fought her way through the commuters to get as far away from him as possible even though she could feel his eyes on her. It was different from last time, the siren was after anyone, the Djinn had been sat there unbothered by it's surroundings, but now both of them were looking at her with intent. 

Since she was on the Central Line, she jumped off at St. Paul's and bolted for the exit not bothering to apologize to anyone she bumped into as the siren followed her off. She hotfooted it up the elevator, flung herself through the turnstiles and ran out into the street when she reached the top, not daring once to look over her shoulder or stop running until she reached St Bartholomew's.

She was almost sick when she'd stopped running, her heart threatening to burst from her chest as she leant forwards, hands pressed into her thighs while she heaved breaths into her burning lungs. 

When she'd regained some kind of composure she glanced around to make sure she'd not been followed, then ducked into the hospital, taking herself to Ward 9. 

A nurse gave her a pleasant smile when she arrived and as Eva approached the desk, she saw her name badge read 'Joy'. 

"Can I help you, miss?" Joy asked with a smile. 

"I'm hear to visit a detective," Eva said, folding her arms on top of the station, thankful to lean on something before her knees gave out. "Tom Higgins."

"I'm sorry miss," Joy's smile faded away. "Close friends and family only, I have a list of people I can permit, may I take your name?"

"Sure," Eva nodded, understanding that Higgins was being kept safe this way. "It's Evelina Clarke."

"Ah, my mistake," Joy's smile returned. "You're at the very top of the list, must be important to him. Right this way."

Joy got up from her seat and led Eva to the ninth private room on the ward before leading her inside and leaving her to her visit. 

Higgins was sat up in bed, aimlessly flicking through the television programs and as Joy closed the door behind herself, he looked in Eva's direction.

"Eva," he managed his usual lopsided smile. "About time you got yourself here to see me."

He patted a gaudy green leather chair by his bedside and Eva crossed the room and sat in it, leaning forwards towards his bed. 

"I'd have been here sooner," she smiled clasping her hands together. "But y'know..."

She gestured to the stitches in her face and Higgins lifted a hesitant hand to them, but didn't touch them.

"I know I kept asking where you were," Higgins looked sheepish behind his bruised face. "Seems a little selfish now I see the state of you."

She gave him a skeptical look; did he remember the situation they were both in? What Moriarty had done? It'd been a traumatic chain of events, maybe he'd blanked it out. Instead of upsetting the apple cart, she merely shrugged her shoulders and sat back in the chair, looking him over.

"How're you doing?" she asked. "They treating you well?"

"I'm good," Higgins settled down in the bed. "Molly came and visited me on her break earlier, Greg's been by. Missed you though."

"Missed you too," she gave a feeble smile. "I thought something horrid had happened to you. Well actually, something horrid had happened to you, I just wish I'd found you sooner."

She gave a deep sigh and Higgins sat back up, reaching out for her hand which he took delicately. 

"You had no idea where I was and no clues to go by, I'd wager even Sherlock would have had a hard time deducing where I ended up," he said. "Anderson left me there at Cane Hill with some really awful...things. I couldn't find my way out and then...then I don't remember anything."

"It's okay, Higgins," Eva squeezed his hand back, leaning once more towards the bed. "You're safe here, you're gonna be well looked after and nothing and no one is getting in this room without the nurses say so or mine or Greg's."

"Your say so?" Higgins questioned. 

She let go of his hand and took a pen from the bedside table. She got up and started to draw odd shapes and symbols on the wall; angel wards, demon wards, any kind of ward or protection she could think of as Higgins watched her closely. 

"What is all this?" he asked, looking at the mark she'd put on the back of the door.

"When you're better," she said, capping the pen and returning it to where it belonged. "I'll explain everything, I swear it."

She took his hand once more and they turned their attention to the television before Eva paled several shades at the top news story.

" _Breaking News coming from the Tower of London, we're hearing reports that there's been an attempted robbery of the crown jewels; tower security have released this image but Scotland Yard have since told us that the suspect is now in custody._ "

An image filled the screen of the case where the jewels were held, but what was scrawled on the glass had both Eva and Higgins leaning forwards towards the television set. 

' _Get Sherlock._ '

"I think you ought to go," Higgins said after a moment. "Sherlock might need help." 

Eva looked at the image once more, looked at the man holding the fire extinguisher ready to smash the glass and felt like she was going to faint. All along she'd thought Moriarty would come directly for her; what a silly assumption that had been. 

"Eva?" Higgins shook her hand gently, watching her watch the TV.

"Yeah," she nodded, snapping herself from her thoughts. "Yeah I should go."

She gave his hand a tentative squeeze and stood from the chair, enveloping as much of him in a hug as she could manage, before she kissed his cheek and said goodbye.

"Eva?" he said as she got to the door. "Be careful."

"Always am," she nodded.

She calmly walked down the ward, thanked Joy for all her help and time, but once she was off the ward, she bolted down the steps to the main reception and straight outside, looking for the sign that led to St. Bartholomew the Less; there was no way she was taking the tube back after the earlier mishap. 

She sprinted for the church and made it in less than three minutes, pleased to find that the inside was silent with no one around. 

"Balthazar, Cas, Gabe," she panted, aptly aware that she didn't need to be in a church to call on them. "Any one of you listening, come get me, please."

"You realize," Balthazar said over her shoulder, making her jump. "You could have called in the street." 

"Holy Ground," she turned to him and flung her arms around him. "Nothing can hurt me here."

Balthazar briefly hugged her back before he pushed her back and looked her over. 

"They've been going mad wondering where you are this morning," he said. "Until the silver haired fellow came by with a few things and told them before rushing off somewhere. What is it I can do for you, love?"

"Take me back to the Diogenes Club, please," she said, her voice bouncing back from the stone walls of the church. "I've seen the news, I need to see Sherlock."

"Alright," Balthazar reached for her hand and held it tightly before he snapped his fingers and they appeared in the lobby of the Diogenes Club.


	52. Colloquy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colloquy; a conversation.

When Balthazar arrived back with Eva in tow, they found Sherlock sitting at large dining room table along with his brother, Gabriel, Crowley, Leonard and Kirk. When the sound of fluttering wings was heard, they all turned their heads to find Eva, red in the face and disheveled looking back at them. 

"I saw the news at the hospital," she said to the staring faces before resting her eyes on Sherlock. 

"You and I need to talk, Miss Clarke," Sherlock answered her. "It seems we have a common foe."

Eva took a seat at the table and the rest of the bodies in the room cleared out, Leonard deliberately walking by Eva so he could squeeze her shoulder gently before he followed Jim out and closed the doors behind them. 

"A common foe?" Eva lifted an eyebrow. 

"Moriarty," he answered. "The Consulting Criminal I never named. The man who wired up explosives and taped them to John. Richard Brook. I can't pretend that I've had much interest in this current case of yours, I've leant a hand here and there but not paid much attention to the exact goings on. Now that I've sat with the angel and the demon and your two boys, I've come to understand that you and I now have a lot in common."

"So you're saying the man that tried to blow up John is the same man who has The High Warlock under his control? The same man who kidnapped Higgins, Balthazar, Leonard and myself?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," he said, fingertips pressed together beneath his chin. "I believe he is after both of us, two birds, one stone. He blew up Baker Street knowing we both lived there. The crime scene appealed to your supernatural tendencies and he knew you'd need a hand in the policing side. I believe Moriarty tried to appeal to my sympathetic side when he kidnapped you and while, yes, I was concerned, I just wasn't concerned enough."

"Thanks, Sherlock," Eva sighed deeply. 

"You can fight your way out of most things," he said with a resolute scowl. "And I did go looking for you, with the demon and even Kirk. There was no trace of you save your phone and a charred brick, but you found your way back."

"The Warlock was kind," she said. "Moriarty left, Sebastian turned a blind eye and let us go. It's not safe out there. When I was on the tube this morning, the creatures? They were watching me, specifically me; a siren chased me off of the tube, a Djinn tried to grab me."

Sherlock let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, probably wandering his mind palace.

"So what now?" Eva said after some moments.

"Lestrade called just before you got here," Sherlock's eyes opened, a bright sea green as he stared at Eva. "We're wanted in court, tomorrow morning, bright and early. Moriarty is standing trial."

"We?" Eva quizzed.

"Moriarty has committed crimes against us both," Sherlock placed his hands to the table. "Tried to blow me up, tried to murder you."

"I can't open a can of supernatural worms in court, Sherlock," Eva looked panicked. "I can't do that, they'll put me in a straight jacket and cart me off to Bart's psych ward. London isn't ready to see what lurks in the cities shadows and I'm not about to out the supernatural community to people who don't even know it's there."

"Then fabricate your story," he said. "Tell them Moriarty kidnapped Higgins, throw Andersons name in there too, Lestrade and I will back you up, we know that much is true. Tell them you went to Cane Hill in search of Higgins, tell them Moriarty set his men on you and when that failed, he had you kidnapped."

Eva had to admit, the plan sounded pretty good, but she didn't feel good about lying in court, especially when you had to _tell_ the truth, the _whole_ truth and _nothing but_ the truth, but it wasn't like she could tell them Moriarty had a warlock at his fingertips and that demons had tried to kill her. 

"What time are we in court?" she finally said.

"The trial starts at 9am," Sherlock answered.

"And Moriarty will be there?" she clarified. 

"In the dock, yes," he answered. "I imagine his warlock pet won't be too far behind him."

"You do realize that if this trial is public, Sherlock," Eva stood from her chair and tucked it back under the table. "That the court room will be full of supernatural beings? From our side and their side. It could be a bloodbath depending on how the outcome fairs."

" _Veni, vidi, vici_ ," Sherlock looked up at her. "That ought to be your war cry."

"Caesar was stabbed 23 times," Eva moved closer to Sherlock, one eyebrow raised. "And I have no desire to conquer, just to save." 

"And of all 23 wounds," Sherlock placed his fingertips together once more, a sadistic smile on his lips as he chose to ignore the last part of what Eva had said. "Only one wound was fatal."

With a deep sigh and roll of her eyes, Eva walked by Sherlock and ruffled his course, dark curls, before turning around and speaking her own latin phrase back to him. 

" _Bella horrida bella_ ," she spoke.

"Wars, horrible wars," Sherlock translated. 

"And that is what they are," she said with no expression.

She left the room to silence and stood out in the empty lobby area before walking across to the adjacent room where the others who had been shooed from the dining room had congregated, Crowley once more with a glass of Scotch.

"Well love?" he asked. "We wondered where you'd gotten to."

"Sorry," she apologized, gaining everyone's attention in the room. "I woke up early and headed out and now I...uh, realize it was a stupid idea."

She could feel Leonard's large, brown eyes scrutinizing her over the top of Jim's head and she felt a little sheepish. 

"I visited Higgins earlier, he's doing good," she said, regaining some composure. "But now I think, it's not a good idea to leave this place alone. The creatures on the tube, they were coming for specifically me. A siren followed me off the tube, a Djinn tried to grab me. Moriarty is mad and now the streets are more dangerous than before. If you have to leave, take an angel, take Crowley, I don't care; you have something supernatural with you."

The room was silent and Eva glanced at the floor. 

"Moriarty isn't just coming for me," she finally said. "It's Sherlock too. Before I got here, Sherlock was working a case about a Consulting Criminal. The Consulting Criminal in question is the psychotic man with the Warlock in his charge."

"You have a common nemesis," Mycroft said. 

"Yes," she nodded. "Tomorrow morning, Sherlock and I have to attend Crown Court to testify against him. I know the court room will be filled with creatures fighting on both sides, a secret war is raging in this city; the criminal king on one side and the city dwellers on the other."

"Is there goin' to be a fight, kid?" Leonard asked.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "If it swings in favor of Moriarty, probably not; he keeps his minions under control probably; he'll unleash them when he wants to, when he says so. If it swings in favor of us, it could be a bloodbath. Moriarty won't care, he'll send everything and everyone he has after us."

"We're coming with you," Gabriel said firmly. "And you can't say no, because 'you have something supernatural with you'."

"Okay yeah, I said that," she groaned. "But I don't want any of you getting hurt."

She glanced over the faces before her, her eyes lingering on Leonard as she gave a barely there smile. 

"Two angels and the King of Hell?" Gabriel grinned. "No ones getting hurt."

"Two angels?" Eva frowned. 

"Cassy left," Balthazar appeared behind her, his voice making her jump. "Along with Dean. Or at least that's what we assume."

"I didn't leave," Castiel's voice came from the side of Eva. "Dean did, I did not. You are still broken."

He narrowed his brilliantly blue eyes on Eva's cheek and passed his palm over the stitches, a bright white light emitting from it. When his hand moved away, the sting in her cheek was gone along with the stitches and the wound.

"Thanks, Cas," she said touching her fingers to her face. 

"You need a healer," he said lolling his head to one side. "Just in case."

"I guess so," she nodded. "But lets forget about this for now. It's Sunday night, Nathaniel closes his bar at 10. We could use some unwinding time."

"Now that's an idea I like, kid," Leonard smiled at her, but held her back as the others filed out of the room to change. "I missed you today. Why'd you not wake me? I'd have come with you."

"I needed the me time," she smiled, lifting a hand to his stubbly cheek. "And you need a shave."

She stood up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips before leading him from the room, holding on to just the ends of his fingers.


	53. Judicature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> judicature; the administration of justice.

They spent a good hour or two at Nathaniel's bar that night after closing, discussing and re-discussing what would happen the pending day. Nathaniel told them he'd be there along with Alcide and Bill and Eric said they'd pay a visit to them when it turned dark out. 

When they got back to The Diogenes Club, they all parted ways to their room, save Eva and Leonard who were pulled to the side by Mycroft. 

"This came for you while you were out," Mycroft nodded to a large, white box on the table that had a card pinned to the top. "Nothing untoward, Miss Hooper dropped it off personally."

With a nod goodnight, Mycroft left the room and Leonard sat on one of the chairs, his eyes heavy with sleep; it'd been too long since he'd had a good, warm bourbon...or six good, warm, bourbons. With an affectionate smile in his direction, Eva patted his shoulder and took the card from the box.

' _Eva, Greg told me there was hardly anything left of Baker Street and I imagine that means there's hardly anything left inside. I don't know if you managed to save anything formal, but incase you didn't, I want you to have these things for your trial tomorrow. I know it isn't much, but I hope it'll do. I'll be there with Greg tomorrow, see you then, Molly x_ '

Leonard was trying to peer at the note in her hand and with a smile, she handed it to him and delved her hands into the box. Inside was a simple black dress with 3/4 sleeves that was knee length, a pair of suede black heels, some black tights, a wine red blazer and some little bits and pieces of make up. 

"That's sweet of her," Leonard yawned, handing the note back to Eva. "To think of you like that."

Eva nodded in agreement and boxed the things back up, placing the note neatly on the top before she hauled that and Leonard up the staircase to their room. Without even getting changed, Leonard threw himself onto the bed and was out for the count. 

Eva on the other hand sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the back of the door; the trial started in seven hours time and Moriarty and most of his hoard would be in the same room as her. 

\---

Sherlock was up at 7am and Eva was awake fifteen minutes after. She'd slept for maybe three hours at best, but she didn't feel as rough as she expected to. She caught a quick shower after Sherlock before everyone else crowded the bathroom, brushed her teeth and pulled on the clothes and shoes Molly had gifted her.

They were an almost perfect fit, the shoes were a little tight and the blazer was a tad loose, but she looked smart and ready for a day in court. 

When she got back to her room, Leonard was partly dressed and buttoning up a white shirt and she noticed it was the suit of Sherlock's she'd given to him on the night he accompanied her to Nathaniel's bar. 

"You look smart, kid," he complimented her as she rifled through her hunting bag for her beaten up make up bag. "You look killer."

"Shame I don't feel it," she answered, tugging it out and going back to the box Molly had sent her; she put her a dark red lip crayon in, some mascara and some eyeliner. 

"It'll be okay," Leonard turned to her as he finished doing up his buttons and pulled on the blazer. "We're all gonna be there. You and Sherlock, you got this. Besides, I reckon you've done scarier things than participated in a trial."

He watched as she did her make up, painting perfectly straight lines on liner on her lids before she did the pretty flick on each one.

"Maybe I have," she said, as she did a few coats of mascara. "But hunters and the law like to stay as far apart on the scale as they can possibly manage."

"Kid, it ain't you in the prosecution booth," Leonard sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. "It's Moriarty. You and Sherlock have some stand up evidence that ought to put him away for good."

Eva didn't say anything, but sighed quietly as she did her lipstick; she and Sherlock did have some stand up stuff, but even if Moriarty was found guilty, they'd still have a war to deal with and really, with the High Warlock bound to him, how long would he be inside for?

It was just turned 8am when they congregated in the lobby area, each and every supporter suited and booted. Mycroft had had cars called for them; Eva and Sherlock in their own and everyone else to follow; it felt more like a funeral procession than a court hearing. 

"Ready?" Sherlock questioned as they car pulled up outside the Old Bailey; troves of press were waiting and police were holding back rowdy crowds on either side.

"No," she answered. "Are you?"

Sherlock merely gave a smile and stepped out of the car as Eva scrambled out of the other side. Camera flashes went off and Eva was escorted to the detectives side by Officer Williams,

"You must've really upset some people," he said quietly as he walked her onto the pavement. "They're out for blood."

As soon as she was back by Sherlock's side, Williams hurried back to the barriers where the crowds were yelling and shouting; there were yellow eyes of werewolves, silver eyes of shifters and the haggard faces of witches staring at her and Holmes with disdain. 

"Shall we?" Holmes looked down to his side, his elbow out for Eva to take which she did and held onto tightly. 

Sherlock walked towards the door and Eva kept up the pace as microphones and cameras were shoved in their faces and as they reached the door, a glass bottle smashed against the wall at the side of Eva's head before the loud shouts Williams were heard.

Once inside, Eva took a long, deep breath and Sherlock rubbed her back before she gathered herself together and they stood in a sort of lobby area awaiting direction. Nathaniel greeted them both, wishing them luck and then Alcide who today was in human form, enveloped Eva in a tight, long hug.

"You'll be okay," he assured her. "We'll protect you."

"You shouldn't have to," she answered, hugging him back before she let him go; in human form Alcide was tall, muscular with shaggy black hair and a muss of black and silver scruff on his chin and every bit as terrifying as he was even in wolf form. 

"Miss Clarke, Mr. Holmes," a barrister called for them. "This way if you will. If everyone else could make their way in it would be greatly appreciated."

Eva caught Leonard's eye in the small congregation that had surrounded them, then Molly's and Greg's and finally Nathaniel's, before she and Sherlock were led in the opposite direction. 

"Miss Clarke will give her evidence first as her run in with the accused is the most recent," the barrister spoke hurriedly as he walked. "Mr. Holmes, you will sit in the public gallery until you are called to the stand, are we clear?"

Both of them said yes in union as they were led into the court room.

"May we have a moment, please?" Sherlock asked the barrister before he hurried off. 

"One moment and that is all," he answered. "The court is about to begin."

Sherlock crouched to Eva's height and placed his pale hands on her tense shoulders, his sea green eyes darting all over her face.

"You are the bravest girl I know, Evelina Clarke," he gave her a sincere smile. "You can do this, remember what we talked about."

" _Veni, vidi, vici,_ " she gave a nod. 

"That's my girl," he patted one shoulder, his eyes quickly glancing behind her. "The rooms filling up, I ought to take my seat as you ought to take yours."

She nodded once more and drew in a deep breath. 

"Sherlock?" she said, when her removed his hands from her shoulders. 

"Yes?" he peered down at her, straightening out his suit. 

"When it comes to your turn," she cracked a small smile. "Don't try to be clever."

The gavel banged and echoed around the room and Sherlock gave her a small smile before he made his way up to the public gallery to sit with the rest of their crowd and Eva was escorted to the witness box.


	54. Discompose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> discompose; to disturb or agitate (someone)

Keeping her eyes firmly fixed to the floor, Eva took her spot in the witness box and lifted her eyes to the room. She didn't have to look up to the public gallery to feel the heated glares but she glanced up anyway. Inside, participants had to be quiet and well behaved, but that didn't stop their facial expressions expressing exactly what they thought.

On the left were Moriarty's clan, shoulders hunched, bodies sat forwards and staring at her in the witness box. On the right were her clan, tense shoulders but bodies mostly relaxed, but all eyes were on Eva.

"Bring the accused to the dock," the judges voice rang out across the room and Eva snapped her attention to the empty dock; she hadn't noticed Moriarty wasn't there. 

The prosecuting barrister stood and Eva noticed him take a long, deep breath before he looked to the dock. Moriarty stood flanked by two police officers, one of them being Williams who caught Eva's eye for the briefest moment. 

Moriarty didn't look the same as he had in that dark, flame filled room but then again, Eva couldn't remember much from that night, just dark eyes, a sharp smile and the undeniable Irish accent. For a man so short, he stood tall and proud, looking over the room like a vengeful king before he locked eyes on Eva, his lips twitching into a twisted smile.

"Please state your full name for the record," the prosecuting barrister looked up to Eva where she stood. 

"Evelina Clarke," she answered.

"And your occupation?" he continued.

_Hunter. Consulting Supernaturalist. Detective?_

She floundered for a moment and disguised it by clearing her throat, all the while Moriarty stared her down. 

"Junior consulting detective, a helping hand to Mr. Holmes," she answered confidently, earning a sincere smile from Holmes himself where he was sat in the public gallery. 

"And as a junior consulting detective, Miss Clarke," the prosecuting barrister looked up at her. "What did you do for Mr. Holmes?"

"As you know, Mr. Holmes has a grand mind," she spoke. "And small cases are insignificant to him. Originally I started out flat sharing with Mr. Holmes until I realized I could help him out here and there, that is when Mr. Holmes started handing me the smaller, insignificant cases, leaving the larger, more time consuming cases to him."

"And how is it that you came to know Mr. Moriarty?" there was a slight flinch when he said Moriarty's name and Eva moved her vision to the dock to see Moriarty glaring down on him. 

"I don't know him personally," Eva answered, her eyes moving up to the public gallery to see Sherlock sat forwards with his chin resting on the tips of his fingers; time to fabricate the story. 

"Then how is it that you came to be sat where you are now, Miss Clarke?" he said in an accusatory tone which Eva didn't care for one bit but she bit her tongue all the same; after all she had told Sherlock not to act clever. "Do enlighten us."

Moriarty's head was bowed but his dark eyes watched Eva closely, his head oscillating slightly, his smile dangerous.

"Detective Inspector Tom Higgins," Eva said confidently. "He went missing, I'm sure you have that case file to hand. As it turned out, Detective Anderson was to blame but again, that I'm sure you know. I was informed that Higgins was left at the abandoned Cane Hill Asylum and I went looking for him. When I arrived, I found Moriarty there and was ambushed by what I can only assume were his men."

Moriarty was watching her carefully, waiting to see if she said anything about demons but when nothing of the sort came out of her mouth, he looked slightly disappointed. 

"I escaped his men, barely," Eva continued. "I feel as though Moriarty didn't appreciate that though."

"How so, Miss Clarke?" the barrister asked.

"Because a few nights later, he had me kidnapped," she answered as Moriarty's grin grew. "I'm sure you have a case file on that too since my missing persons report was filed by New Scotland Yard."

"Yes," he answered. "Thank you Miss Clarke for your... _evidence_."

The prosecuting barrister said it with a sneer in his voice and Evelina was escorted down from the witness box and out of the court as the Judge broke for a break. Eva sat by herself on a bench outside as members of the jury passed her by and people from the public gallery looked at her. 

"You're going to lose," a voice said in her ear as a body sat beside her; it was suited, she could see her reflection in his shoes as she listened, she swore she knew the voice. "No matter what case you plead."

Eva lifted her head and looked to her right; she did know him.

"Brady," she said with slightly narrowed eyes. "Long time no see."

Brady had been one of Sam's old friends from Stamford, least that's what Sam had told her when he'd bolted from the room, leaving her, Alicia and Dean to deal with him. The siblings had wanted to do him harm, stated that Brady had been the one responsible for all the deaths in this tiny Minnesota town they were 'just passing through', but the girls knew otherwise.

She and Alicia always knew otherwise.

They showed Brady kindness, proved to the Winchesters that he was good even if he was a demon and they'd eventually allowed the girls to let him go.

"Be careful Clarke," he warned her. "I still like you." 

"So you're not on my side?" she said, looking back down at his shoes; they really were shiny, the whole hallway reflected back in them. 

"Black eyes, Evelina," he answered as she looked up, catching sight of those black eyes. "He rallied up a lot of demons, they're everywhere."

She nodded as though she knew this information but in reality, it was brand new and another thing to deal with. 

"For what it's worth," he nudged her with his shoulder carefully, making sure that no one saw. "I thought you pleaded a good case."

If it wasn't for the demon aspect, Brady would be handsome with his button nose, blue eyes and dimpled chin; he looked like a lawyer in his suit. 

"Thanks," she said half heartedly. 

"I'm sorry it has to be this way," he bowed his head.

"You say that like you don't have a choice," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Surely he doesn't have that kind of hold on you."

Brady rolled up a sleeve, once more being careful about it, and exposed a brand burnt into his skin that looked to Eva like an Ankh, the same shape of the talisman that hung around Moriarty's neck.

"Be careful Clarke," he said as he stood and rolled his sleeve back down. "I mean it, _I still like you_." 

With a discreet touch to her right cheek, Brady walked away, passing by Nathaniel who gave him a once over before he sat beside Eva in Brady's empty spot.

"And who was that beautiful man?" he asked as Eva looked at Nathaniel's shoes; no shine here, just red velvet with a double sole, the man loved his Creepers. 

Suited up to the nines with gold cufflinks and a black shirt with a red tie, but he still wore his creepers; ten points for originality.

"Brady, an old friend of mine I suppose," she said miserably. "He's a demon, Moriarty's side."

"Ah, shame," Nathaniel matched Eva's stance. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," she shrugged. 

"You did quite alright you know," he said reassuringly. "Sherlock's _proud_ of you."

"Where is he?" she said looking up. "Actually, where is anybody? Not that I'm not happy to see you of course."

She squeezed his knee gently and Nathaniel smiled the smile she loved so much; it softened his face and brightened his eyes and the nose rings glinted in the light. 

"Bathroom breaks, breakfast breaks," Nathaniel shrugged. "Sherlock wandered off elsewhere though."

"He's in the stand next," she shrugged, still no smile appearing on her face. "Probably preparing."

Nathaniel took her hand and held it tight before pulling her up. He first gave her a hug, then a peck on the cheek before he took her hand and led her down the hall, past the glares of the magical beings that were crowded in the hall. 

"Where are we going?" she asked as Nathaniel pulled her along. "Court resumes soon."

"Not for fifteen more minutes," he smiled. "You need coffee. And friends."


	55. Attitudinize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> attitudinize; adopt or express a particular attitude or attitudes, typically just for effect.

Nathaniel had been right, she had needed coffee and the comfort of her friends. It was like a cafeteria in the courthouse and their party congregated around one table, Eva sat between Leonard who held her hand tightly under the table out of sight and Crowley who kept a hand over hers publicly on the top of the table. 

A tannoy announcement filled the room, stating that court would resume in five minutes and Leonard, squeezing Eva's hand tightly, got up and allowed everyone to follow after him.

"You did brilliantly, love," Crowley said, walking at her side with his hands in his pockets. "We were all rooting for you."

"He's right," Molly caught up to her other side; Leonard and Kirk were leading the way back in. "Greg thought you pled a good case." 

Eva took Molly's hand and smiled; it'd been too long since she'd seen her properly, she missed working with her.

"Thanks for the clothes," Eva smiled. "I appreciate them."

"They look great on you," Molly looped her arm through Eva's with a smile before Eva leant to Crowley as they walked.

"Where's Gabriel?" she asked, noting he was missing. "And Balthazar?"

"Outside," he answered quietly. "Seems Moriarty has demons wandering about outside; Gabriel's idea to be out there, they'll be fine."

Eva gave a nod and looked behind her to see the flicker of black eyes looking back at her; Brady was right, they were everywhere.

\--

In the public gallery, Eva sat between Leonard and Nathaniel with Crowley behind her and Alcide in front. Molly sat beside Alicde in front of Jim and Greg sat in front of Nathaniel on Alcide's other side; she'd be lying if she said she didn't feel super protected right now. 

Moriarty was back in the box, but the talisman wasn't around his neck; just a black tie and a silver pin. Maybe it was in a pocket, maybe he'd hidden it.

She glanced away and down the row she was sitting on before she saw him sat on the corner; in fact she was sure everyone could see him sat on the corner, The High Warlock.

He was in an aqua coloured blazer and a bright white shirt, no tie but adorned with chains and rosaries. The sleeves of the shirt and blazer were rolled up together, balled at the elbows and exposing the mass of tiger stripe ink on his right arm that finished at his fingertips. She recognized his shoes, his leg was crossed over his knee showing a leopard print creeper, not too dissimilar to Nathaniel's. 

His hair was mussed in a mess of golden blonde and black but it was his face Eva noticed more than anything; the sadness, the fatigue, the desperation and right now, there was nothing she could do about it. 

She tapped Nathaniel's knee gently as Sebastian looked over at her and when Nathaniel looked at her, she nodded in Sebastian's direction. The blonde mustered a sort of smile before he turned away and Nathaniel took Eva's hand before they both looked down to see Moriarty grinning wickedly in their direction. 

\--

Holmes stood comfortably in the witness box and Eva had shuffled forwards a row, sitting snugly between Lestrade and Alcide as she looked on at Sherlock. 

"A _consulting criminal_ ," the prosecuting barrister began, this time it was a female. "Your words, Mr. Holmes, could you expand on that?" 

Eva watched as Holmes' eyes moved around the room; a quick glance to Moriarty, a lingering glance at each of them in the public gallery and then back down to the prosecuting barrister. 

"James Moriarty is for hire," Sherlock said simply.

"A tradesman?" she answered and Sherlock nodded. "But not the sort who'd fix your heating." 

"No, the type to plant a bomb or stage an assassination," he answered before his lips split into a slight smile. "But I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler."

Eva gave a deep sigh as muffled laughter was heard from certain parts of the courtroom before she looked at Moriarty who was watching Sherlock intently. 

"Would you describe him as-"

"Leading," Sherlock said and Eva's head fell into her hands as Greg did the same beside her.

"What?" the prosecuting barrister glanced up to him.

"Can't do that, leading the witness," Sherlock answered sharply. 

"Mr. Holmes," the judge interjected, the look on his face clearly showing that this wasn't the first time Sherlock had done this in court. 

Around Eva, their little group had begun to fidget and as she glanced to the corner, she saw that even Sebastian looked uncomfortable; had he wanted them to win?

"Ask me _how_ ," Sherlock said, eyes on the prosecuting barrister. "How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him?"

Eva and Greg shared and uneasy glance and Eva thought about walking out but Greg put a hand on her knee and leant forwards, watching the scene. 

"How would you describe this man?" the prosecuting barrister gestured to Moriarty, but didn't turn to look at him.

"First mistake," Holmes answered, looking up and locking eyes with Moriarty. "James Moriarty isn't a man. He's a spider. A spider in the middle of a criminal web with a thousand threads and knows how each and every one of them dances." 

Moriarty looked as though he agreed as his dark eyes watched Sherlock in the witness box.

"And how long..."

"No, no don't do that," Sherlock sighed exasperated and Eva closed her eyes, sighing herself as she counted to ten and felt Greg squeeze her knee. 

"Mr. Holmes!" the judge banged the gavel, several people in the room jumping at the noise. 

"How long have I known him?" Sherlock looked at the prosecuting barrister, then up to Eva who glared back. "Not a great deal longer than Miss Clarke. We met twice. Five minutes in total. I pulled a gun, he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something."

His last line was delivered with sarcasm and Eva's knee began to jostle impatiently as she felt Leonard's hand on her back. Her eyes moved to Moriarty, his eyebrows were raised and an amused smile covered his face. 

"Miss Sorrell," the judge addressed the prosecuting barrister directly. "Are you claiming this man is an expert after knowing the accused for just five minutes?"

"Two would make me an expert," Sherlock answered before her. "Five was ample."

"Mr. Holmes," the judge now addressed the detective. "That's a matter for the jury." 

"Oh no," Eva muttered under her breath and put her head in her hands. 

"Oh _really_ ," Holmes answered, eyes turning on the jury. 

"Is he..." Greg leant over to speak quietly to Eva.

"Deducing?" Eva finished. "Yeah, we're done for."

"One librarian, two teachers, two high pressured jobs probably in The City," Sherlock's gaze rested on one woman on the far left of the front row. "The foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad judging by her shorthand."

"Mr. Holmes!" the judge said angrily. 

"Seven are married and two are having an affair," he said scanning the rings on their fingers. "Ah, with each other it would seem. And they've just had tea and biscuits. "

Sherlock turned to the judge and looked up.

"Would you like to know who ate the wafer?" he asked.

Eva collapsed into her folded arms on her knees, Greg's head fell into his arms and everyone else looked increasingly uncomfortable. Lifting her head, Eva looked at the judge who looked increasingly angered by the second.

"Mr. Holmes, you have been called here to answer Miss Sorrell's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess!" the judge said.

At the mention of intellectual prowess, Sherlock couldn't help but glance up and smile at Eva, who glared back, stood up and made her way out of the room.


	56. Ramification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ramification; a complex or unwelcome consequence of an action or event.

Brady once more sat by Eva on the bench outside; no one else had followed her out and Brady hadn't been inside, she guessed Moriarty had him on guard duty. The halls were quiet, the bodies that filled them earlier now filling the courtroom. 

Eva had been quiet for a short while as he sat beside her with his hands clasped and hanging between his knees. He knew she was crying, the tear drops were sitting on the marble floor between her feet. 

"Eva?" he said quietly. 

She lifted her head and wiped under her eyes with the tips of her index fingers, taking care not to smudge her eyeliner.

"He ruined it," she said bitterly. "I told him not to be clever."

Brady looked back to the floor, head hung; it wasn't like he could tell her everything would be okay.

\--

It was another good hour before court broke to reconvene in the morning where the jury would make their decision. Eva and Brady had sat in silence for the whole time, but Brady lovingly kept a hand on her back; for a demon he was a soft touch and Eva wondered if that's how Brady had been in life.

"I should go," Brady stood as the doors opened. "Be careful, Clarke."

As Brady walked away, Eva looked up expecting to see a sea of people come filing out, but instead all she saw was an aqua blazer blinding her vision. 

"They're almost done in there," Sebastian took Brady's empty seat. "I have my freedom while he's in the stand, just a shame I can't run with it."

Eva looked to him and Sebastian saw her wet, glassy eyes and tilted his head to the left, looking her over. 

"For what it's worth, dear Eva," he took her hand in his. "You're looking well."

Eva mustered a sardonic smile and sniffled slightly, before more silent tears rolled down her cheeks, landing on the fabric of her dress. Sebastian quieted her and hugged her close and Eva could feel the magic from him calming her; it wasn't a lot but just enough to take effect. 

"They're coming out," Sebastian said, tilting his head as though he was listening to something far away. "You can do this Eva, you're stronger than you think."

He gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead as she closed her eyes and when she opened them, he had vanished, blue blazer, leopard print and all. 

"Eva," Lestrade said from her opposite side. "We thought you were coming back."

"To the clown show?" she raised one eyebrow, hoping that her eyes weren't as red and puffy anymore. 

"Point taken," Lestrade rocked on his heels, looking like he had something else to say and when Eva narrowed her eyes, he caved. "They've taken Sherlock into holding."

Eva slammed her hands down either side of her, the sound ricocheting off the walls making people, magical and non, turn around. She pushed herself up, the look on her face stern before she marched down the corridor with her heels tapping against the marble as everyone watched her walk. 

She walked ten paces before the rest of their congregation made their way up the corridor, Leonard stepping forwards when he saw her.

"Eva, where-"

"Later," she growled as she passed. 

"I think perhaps Greg told her about Sherlock," Molly said as Leonard watched her pass. "She doesn't look happy."

"The hell with this," Leonard took off after her and left the others behind. 

He caught up to Eva's side as she stood speaking with a police officer at the top of the staircase in the lobby area she and Sherlock had previously walked into from their car.

"Kid, wait," Leonard caught her arm and she glared out of the corner of her eye. "What are you doin'?"

"Did Mr. Holmes get taken into holding?" Eva asked the officer. 

"Can't divulge that information, Miss," he answered. "Now move along."

"My name is Miss Clarke," she said with a grimacing smile. "Me and my associate are here to take him out."

"ID?" the officer raised a brow and Eva handed her driving license over before he allowed them both to pass. 

"You walked out," Leonard said as they descended the stairs but Eva said nothing; she was saving her anger for Holmes.

When they reached the holding cells, Eva was told to wait by a desk and she stood with her arms folded, Leonard standing quietly at her side. A moment later, three police officers walked by them and opened up the gate leading to the cells before a further two flanked Moriarty who stood in cuffs. 

He threw a wicked smile their way, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners, his teeth sharp and lips turning up at the corners. Leonard looked the opposing way, but Eva stared him out, her expression neutral as she watched the officers walk Moriarty to his cell. 

"He doesn't scare you?" Leonard tried to talk to her again.

"A small mortal man doesn't scare me," she answered. "Sorry for my temper."

"It's alright kid," Leonard placed an arm around her shoulders. "Been a hard day."

"It didn't have to be a hard day," Eva said, glaring through the gate as Holmes walked up with an officer. "But someone made it that way."

Leonard felt her shoulders tense and removed his arm, sensing that she really was seriously angry. Holmes gave her a smile as he was let out and the officer who'd accompanied him sat behind the desk and asked him to sign the release for his belongings.

As the detective leant down to sign, Eva gave him a hard slap across the face. Sherlock dropped the pen and looked at Eva with surprise.

"Didn't deduce that one did you?" she said bitterly. "What did I say? I said don't be clever."

"You're mad..." Sherlock said, still dazed. "At me."

"Get your things," she said sternly. "We're going."

She turned on her heel and marched out as Leonard followed, leaving Sherlock and the officer both with looks of surprise on their faces.

\--

Upstairs in the lobby their congregation stood in the centre as Alcide and Nathaniel spoke to some other magical beings whilst the rest kept to themselves. Eva spotted Brady in a corner and he gave her a minute nod, telling her to look over her shoulder.

A kitsune was dangerously close to Molly and she caught the glares of skin walkers and demons all around them; now that court was adjourned, they could do as they pleased. 

"We have to go," Eva said, loud enough for her friends to hear but not too loud so everyone heard. "Now."

"There's no officers outside yet," Greg said. "You and Sherlock..."

"We'll be fine," she assured him. "They can't kill us, the verdict isn't until tomorrow."

"Doesn't mean they won't bloody try," he countered.

"Please, just go," she said. "Sherlock and I will follow."

He gave her an unsure look but did as he was told, gathering them all together before leading them out, but not before Leonard kissed Eva's cheek.

"See you back home, kid," he gave a sweet smile and despite everything, Eva smiled back with a nod. 

When they left, Eva looked back to Brady and gave a simple nod of thanks before Sherlock appeared behind her. 

"You hit me," he said, rubbing his cheek with the expression of a petulant child.

"You deserved it," she said, her eyes moving the lobby warily. 

"I can't just turn it off like a tap," he replied. "Did you watch Moriarty's lawyer?"

"Sat on his ass the whole trial," she said. "He's not mounting any defence." 

"I get the feeling we shouldn't be here," Sherlock said, suddenly aware that all eyes in the room were on the two of them.

Eva grabbed his arm and walked him to the doors they'd previously entered through; this wasn't going to be easy, nothing ever was. She was right of course, they couldn't kill them, but Greg was right too, just because they couldn't, doesn't mean they wouldn't try.

"Listen to me carefully, Sherlock and this time, please do listen," she said in a hurried, hushed tone. "As soon as you're out of this door, run. Flag a cab down, I'll be right behind you."

With a sceptical look, he gave a nod and with a last look over her shoulder, they walked outside and bolted as the barriers that were holding back the rowdy crowds clattered to floor and the rowdy crowds set off after them.

Sherlock's long legs benefited him and he whistled down a cab that stopped on the main road, holding it as Eva sprinted behind him, heels and all and dived in the cab after him before it roared away, making its way to The Diogenes Club.

"Sorry...for...the...slap," Eva said breathlessly, sinking into the seat as she looked at Sherlock, his cheeks pink and his curls wayward.

"I deserved it," he answered.


	57. Stoush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stoush; hit, fight with

Court was due to resume the following morning, but when Eva got to the bottom of the grand staircase, no one was wearing their formal attire.

"Court resumes at 9," she said, pulling her loaned blazer straight.

"I'm banned from the court," Sherlock's voice drifted out of the drawing room and Eva rolled her eyes. "Not coming."

"Dignified answer," she muttered. 

"I'll join you, love," Crowley stepped forwards. "The angels are on patrol so they won't be coming."

"Okay," she nodded. "Leonard? Jim?"

"We ain't comin'," Leonard said, sinking his hands into his jeans pockets. "We don't understand why you're goin' either."

Eva stopped preening herself and looked up to Leonard with a confused expression on her face. 

"You know the outcome of the jury, kid," he shrugged. "Ain't no point in goin'."

"So we lose," she said. "There's still going to be magical creatures from our side turning up to court to see how it all plays out. Who's going to protect them from Moriarty's mob when the jury decides?"

Without a further word, Eva walked by Leonard and didn't even look back as she left the building with Crowley following her. 

\---

"You're mad at him," Crowley said in the cab over to the Old Bailey.

"I'm disappointed," she answered, staring through the windshield. "Sherlock can't be here by law, the angels are doing their jobs, Leonard and Jim I thought might have come solely for comfort. Doesn't matter anyway."

"Did you bring weapons?" Crowley asked.

"Yeah, because you can bring a gun to court?" she raised one eyebrow at him. 

"Alright, sarcastic," he answered, sinking into his seat. "How do you expect to fight then?"

"Lestrade has a SWAT van outside full of my kind of weapons, ready to use if something goes wrong," she answered. "We organized it over the phone last night." 

Crowley pulled a thoughtful face as the cab rolled up outside the Old Bailey. Today, Eva went through the front entrance and as she and Crowley got out of the cab, she saw the crowds gathered outside. 

There were demons and Djinns, sirens, shifters, vampires; anything that came from a nightmare was stood right in front of them, waiting to pounce when the verdict was read. 

"Any of those weapons multi functional?" Crowley asked quietly as they walked up to the entrance, avoiding the glares and yells of the crowd. "Say a sliver blade engraved with a devils trap that leaks holy water and lambs blood?"

"Nope," Eva answered him calmly. "But I like the idea, kudos."

In the main lobby area, Lestrade stood with Constable Williams and when he saw only Eva and one partner, his silver brow furrowed over his dark eyes.

"Where is-"

"Sherlock's banned from the court, Bal, Cas and Gabe are playing security guards and everyone else is-"

"Right here," Alcide's voice came from behind her as his hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Leonard?"

"Didn't want to come," she shrugged a shoulder as he and Crowley shared a look over her head. 

"Nathaniel and I are here and Crowley and the Detective," Alcide assured her. "It's gonna be alright."

"I doubt that," she answered. 

\--

At 9 on the dot, court resumed and Eva and her troupe including the DI sat up in the public gallery. Sebastian was nowhere in sight but Brady sat close by, his expression uncomfortable as he glanced her way.

"Mr. Cayhill," The Judge spoke up, looking down to the defending barista in question. "Can we have your first witness?"

Moriarty stood in his box, the same suit as yesterday, presumably cleaned, pressed and hung for him to wear again today.

"We aren't calling any witnesses, your honor," Cayhill answered, rising to his feet.

There were cries of surprise all around the gallery, sharp intakes of breath and hurried whispers; even Eva was taken aback by the statement. 

"I don't follow," the judge answered. "You have entered a plea of not guilty."

Eva watched the judge and barista closely, leaning forwards in her seat from where she sat between Nathaniel and Crowley.

"Nevertheless," Cayhill answerwed, straightening up his suit. "My client is offering no evidence. The defense rests."

Eva watched Cayhill sit down before Moriarty turned around and glanced up at the public gallery. She felt Nathaniel's hand tighten around her wrist as Moriarty found her face and merely shrugged his shoulders.

\--

The court was adjourned before quarter to eleven and Eva sat alone outside of the courtroom on the bench she'd sat on the previous day.

"Guilty or not guilty?" Brady sat by her side once again.

"Guilty," she answered, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "But he won't be. Everyone knows it."

"Leave while you still have a chance, Clarke," Brady said. "They know you're here, you might not get out alive."

"A concerned demon," she gave him a slight smile. "There's a new one."

"I mean it," he said seriously. "You can't fight them all."

"No, but I can try," she answered as the clerk of the court came rushing out of a side room. 

"They're coming back," he said as he walked by.

Brady glanced at his watch and glanced to Eva.

"But it's barely been five minutes," Brady called after the Clerk.

"I'm surprised it took them that long!" he said cheerfully as he vanished back into the courtroom.

"Go," Brady warned her. "Leave and be safe."

Eva merely stood, pecked Brady on the cheek and followed after the Clerk into the courtroom to meet with the rest of her group as Brady looked on and shook his head.

\--

Once the court resumed, the Clerk turned to the Jury as everyone watched on.

"Have you reached a verdict on which you all agree?" he asked. 

Eva watched as the foreman stood and unhappily looked at the clerk.

"Not guilty," she answered.

There was rowdy applause and cheering and Eva hurried out of the room with the others following. 

"You're running?" Crowley said.

"No, I'm going to the SWAT van before court lets out," she said, hurrying along. "They will come out here and they will get a hold of us."

Eva spotted people from Nathaniel's bar and told them to run and when she reached the SWAT van, she handed out weapons to all of her small congregation as Nathaniel used magic and Crowley used his kingly ways to keep them at bay. 

"What now?" Lestrade asked as they stood in front of the Baliey, looking on at the angry mob.

"Prepare for a war," Eva answered. "Get rid of as many of these as you can. Greg, go for the demons. Everyone else, you know how to kill them. Reconvene at the Diogenes at 2pm. Good luck." 

And that was it, the crowd came out of the court house and down the steps.

"Run!" Crowley bellowed.

Nathaniel's golden magic sparked and Crowley's black smoke swirled. Gunshots rang through the air and victorious shouting followed behind.

But all Eva could think about was how mad at Leonard she was; he could be here helping, instead he was sat on his backside at the Diogenes, waiting for them to come back.


	58. Delude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> delude; make someone believe something that is not true

Eva was last to stumble through the door to the Diogenes Club fifteen minutes later than the agreed reconvening time. Her gun fell to the floor with a clatter, followed by her body, her knees hitting the hard floor, her hands leaving bloody prints on the tiles.

Footsteps hurried towards her; Italian leather loafers that were highly polished and hands covered in rings took her face between their palms.

"Eva?" Nathaniel's melodic voice filled her ears, his hazel eyes looking over her from behind his thick framed glasses. 

"I'm okay," she managed. "Is everyone back?" 

"Everyone is alright love," Crowley's voice came from above her, the body belonging to the Italian loafers. "Lestrade went back to Scotland Yard, Alcide went back to the club ready to barricade."

Nathaniel took one arm and Crowley took the other and together they pulled her to her feet, taking her weight between them. 

"Go get cleaned up," Nathaniel said softly. "I'll make some tea."

Eva managed a feeble smile and stood on her own as they both carefully let go of her. As she made her way to the staircase, Leonard and Jim were looking back at her with surprise written across their features. 

"Eva, kid are you-"

"You don't get to speak to me," she looked up at Leonard, expressionless. "You could have helped, instead you stayed behind. Those people out there needed help and you didn't see the point. Either of you."

Her eyes moved to Jim who stood slightly behind him and he hung his head as Eva walked by and made her way up the stairs to take a shower.

\---

Leonard and Jim didn't show their faces when she came back down, it was just her, Nathaniel and Crowley in the dining room sat around a hot pot of tea.

"Where's Sherlock?" she asked. 

"He came back about five minutes before you did," Crowley answered her. "Looked spooked, didn't talk."

"Then we won't pry," Eva said, cradling her cup between her hands. 

"You're still mad at Leonard, aren't you," Crowley said. "I don't blame you."

"Neither do I," Nathaniel added. "I thought he might have been there earlier, thought he might have helped."

"Yeah well," Eva shrugged. "It's not for everyone, is it?"

Just then, Eva's phone vibrated on the table with Molly's name and caller photo flashing up on the screen. Casting her cup aside, she answered the phone as Nathaniel and Crowley stared into their cups.

"You're not...busy, are you?" Molly said when she answered, she seemed apprehensive about calling. "Greg said something had happened earlier, said I probably shouldn't call you but..."

"I'm okay Molly," Eva said. "What's the matter?"

"I have a body in the morgue, he came in this afternoon," she explained. "He looks dead but I don't think he is, Eva. He's warm, still got colour in his face, but he's not breathing. Do you know anything that can still look alive even after death?"

Eva frowned at the table top.

"How long has he been allegedly dead?" she asked. "And how did he allegedly die?"

"About 12 hours looking at the report," Molly said as she checked over his paperwork. "Cause still unknown, that's why he's with me. If I had to guess, maybe a heart attack, but he's still got colour."

"Who is he?" Eva quizzed. "Someone or anyone?"

"Someone, I think," Molly answered, peering into a clear plastic bag of the guys belongings. "An FBI agent? Report says he was found at Cane Hill. His badge looks pretty flimsy and anyway, why would a lone FBI agent be over at Cane Hill?"

"FBI badge?" Eva said into the phone, gaining Crowley's attention. "What's the name on it?"

"Agent Wesson," Molly answered. "Why?"

"I'll be there ASAP."

Eva ended the call and jumped from her chair to the surprised of both the warlock and the demon. 

"We got another problem," she said, looking at them both before focusing entirely on Crowley.

"Oh what joy," he responded sardonically. "What now?" 

"Dean's in St. Barts morgue," she answered.

\---

It was Castiel that accompanied Eva to the morgue with an air of concern written all over his features. He watched as Eva pulled on her white coat in the hospital and hurried alongside her as she led him down to the morgue.

"I sent him home," she said. "So this wouldn't happen."

Castiel remained uncharacteristically quiet as they walked, his head hung and his arms by his sides. When they reached the morgue, Molly was already waiting for them.

"Okay, first up," Eva said before she even glanced at the body. "His name isn't Agent Wesson, it's Dean Winchester."

"Oh," Molly answered. "Not a real FBI agent then?"

"Not even close," Eva answered. "Oh and by the way, this is Castiel."

Eva nodded to the angel behind her and Molly introduced herself as Eva forced herself to look at the table.

It was Dean laid out on the slab. She wanted it not to be, wanted it to be a legitimate FBI agent in Molly's grasp, but she knew it wouldn't be; Wesson was an alias Dean was fond of and Cane Hill had been the last place she and he had been together looking for Higgins.

He was in his suit which was still neat, his tie perfectly knotted, his shoes perfectly shined. His hair was still neat and cropped, his face still dusted with freckles but Molly was right, he still had a lot of colour. She cautiously lifted her hand and it hovered for a moment over one of Dean's own that was laid by his side before she took it and gently squeezed.

Molly was right again; he was still warm.

"Is he alive?" Molly asked.

Castiel came forwards touching two fingers to Dean's forehead as Molly watched on in awe.

"Yes," Castiel answered. "Very much alive."

"And?" Eva raised an eyebrow. 

"He's been cursed," he answered her. "A sleeping curse, makes the affected look deceased. It is sloppy work; he should be cold and pale, but the spell was cast by strong magic, it will be tough to break."

"We're taking him to the Diogenes," Eva said. "Cas can get rid of the paperwork."

"Alright," Molly said after a moment. "He's a friend of yours?"

"Both of ours," Eva said as she grabbed Deans feet and Cas grabbed him under the arms. "Thanks Molly."

In a flutter of wings Castiel and Eva had gone along with the body from the slab. 

\---

Back at the Diogenes Club, Castiel had placed them all in Eva's room which Eva was surprised to find vacant; she'd expected Leonard to be in here.

But with him not in sight, Eva pulled off Deans tie and blazer, popped open his top three shirt buttons and pulled off his shoes before she helped Castiel haul him into her empty bed. 

"I told him," Eva grumbled. "He always gets himself into stupid situations. Lisa and Ben are gonna be distraught, he's been gone for so long."

Eva sat beside Dean on the bed looking over him affectionately; the words might have been angry but the look on her face was saddened. Castiel could see she wanted to reach out and touch him, to soothe him or shake him awake, but her balled up fists kept to themselves and instead she glared down at him.

"Eva," Castiel said, no longer able to bear the look on her face. "There is something you need to know. About the Cupid. About Dean."

"What are you talking about, Cas?" she said without turning to face him, her eyes still looking over Dean. 

"The cupid you summoned, the one that told you Dean was married," he said. "He found me out of guilt. He lied to you, Eva. Dean didn't marry Lisa; Dean wanted you."

"What?" Eva had a smile on her face, one of disbelief as she turned to face Castiel who's expression was dead set on serious.

"The cupid lied."


	59. Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> devotion; love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person or activity.

Eva chose to ignore Castiel's words for the rest of the evening and the next morning. She stayed up all night watching over Dean, checking his body temperature, checking he still had a rosy tint to his cheeks. 

When morning did finally break, she asked for Nathaniel's assistance but didn't dismiss Castiel's, keeping him close at hand and everyone else an arms length away.

"The angel is right," Nathaniel said, casting a golden magic across Dean's still form. "It is a curse. A sleeping curse to be exact. How Dean came to be under this curse is a different matter entirely."

"Okay," Eva looked at the warlock with a puzzled look across her face as Castiel lolled his head to one side. 

"Ever seen Sleeping Beauty?" Nathaniel asked and Eva nodded, but Castiel still looked perplexed. "Princess pricks her finger on the enchanted needle and comes to be under the sleeping curse?"

"Somehow I don't think that is how Dean got cursed," Castiel offered and Eva had to agree; it did sound a little silly. 

"There are other ways to manifest the curse," Nathaniel continued. "But one cannot be coerced against ones own will." 

"So it can't be forced," Eva said. 

"Not at all," Nathaniel answered. "My guess is Dean was given something, food, drink, something that would get the curse into his system, but whoever made up the curse was neglectful. When done right, the affected looks deceased; pallid, grey and cold."

"Dean looks like he is still alive," Castiel said. "Perhaps a beginning witch cast the curse."

"No," Nathaniel frowned, looking over Dean once more. "The magic is powerful, just perhaps cast in a hurry."

"Is there a cure?" Eva asked. "I know the Prince kisses Sleeping Beauty and she wakes..."

"That's your cure," Nathaniel interjected. "True loves kiss."

"You're kidding me," Eva crossed her arms. "We gotta go all Disney on this?"

"True Loves Kiss is an ancient cure for an ancient curse," Nathaniel merely shrugged. "Until Dean is kissed by a reciprocating love, he remains this way, trapped in his own head."

"He is awake?" Castiel's eyes grew wide.

"Yes," the warlock nodded. "Well his soul is. Gone to the Netherworld I presume, not a happy place to be."

"Purgatory," Castiel said.

"Dean doesn't even have a girlfriend," Eva slumped into a chair at the foot of her bed, hands running through her hair. "How are we supposed to cure him?"

"In fairytale lore, the definition of the kiss varies," Nathaniel sat at the foot of the bed facing her. "Some believe the kiss has to be wholly romantic, the whole star crossed lovers, happy ever after soul mates fandango."

"Dean doesn't have anything like that," Eva said miserably. "I'm not even sure he's _had_ that. I know you don't know him like we do, but Dean? In love? You've more chance of a blizzard at the height of summer."

"Then perhaps familial love," Nathaniel said as Castiel stood behind Eva, blue eyes narrowed and head lolled; he was thinking deep about something. "A mother, a father, a child, a sibling."

"Dean doesn't have parents anymore, doesn't have a kid," Eva stared at the floor as she spoke. "There is Sam but I refuse to call him into this whole mess. He'll only want to stay and I don't want that for him."

"Then I'm afraid Dean is trapped this way," Nathaniel looked over his shoulder to the still form of the hunter. "There is nothing to be done."

Nathaniel stood and left the room, leaving Eva and Castiel alone with him, staring. 

"You are wrong, Eva," Castiel said some moments after Nathaniel had left. "Dean once loved you."

"Once upon a time," Eva looked away from the angel. "That was a long time ago."

"Yet you act like you remember nothing about it," Castiel took Nathaniel's empty spot. "You humans are strange."

"I remember everything Cas, the first hunt for the Wendigo, I saved Dean's life," she still wouldn't look at the angel but Castiel was listening to every word. "I barely even knew him."

"Dean thought you hated him," Castiel spoke. "The time he spent away from you and Alicia after the Wendigo, he spoke of nothing but you and how you wouldn't pay him any attention. I think he found it endearing."

"There were times I could have killed him," Eva looked up at Castiel. "But we had fun. I remember the night after the Wendigo hunt in the bar where me and Alicia met up with him and Sam; Dean and I drank all those shots. I remember the smell of gasoline on his jacket and singing along so badly to some Boston song Dean picked on the jukebox."

Eva gave a desolate smile before she looked back to the floor and Castiel said nothing; he could feel that she had more to say, more she wanted to express about Dean. He felt as though he shouldn't be the one she was talking to about him, that perhaps it ought to be Gabriel, but some part of him was oddly comforted that it was him she was speaking to.

It was Dean after all that bonded the two together. 

"That was the first night we kissed," Eva sat back in the chair, her smile brightening a little as she remembered. "But I recall Alicia's sly call to Sam without my knowing to meet up again."

"Alicia was smart that way," Castiel smiled too, fond memories of the copper haired girl filling his mind. 

"She was, but also a pain in the ass," Eva agreed, a grin breaking out on her face as she remembered the times Alicia would beg to know the gory details between her and Dean. "We found a case at that state fair, a Raksasha. It was in Kansas, I literally had to beg Alicia to go to the fair and who should we meet in the fair? The Winchesters. They were supposed to be on a break, instead they helped me and Al with the Raksasha."

"They would do anything for you," Castiel said. "Both of you."

"And Alicia and I would do anything for them," she looked back to Castiel's blue eyes that were studying her closely before another smile grew on her face. "I remember meeting you for the first time, you scared Alicia and I half to death, you weren't so human back then."

"I have adapted, Dean helped," Castiel answered her. "He is my friend, as are you. I recall Gabriel filling the Camaro up with gumballs because you wouldn't let him show the brothers any of his tricks. That seems like forever ago."

"Probably because it was, Cas," she said. "This was the time they were fighting Azazel; not the angels or the demons or even Lucifer. It was so long ago back when hunting felt almost...easy. And now there's this grand old mess in this beautiful old city and it's not so easy anymore."

She glanced at Dean still laying there motionless, remembering a younger face. Remembering a deep laugh and a bright smile and green eyes that could stare a hole right into you.

"Eva," Castiel said after a few quiet moments. "Do you still love him? After everything that happened both within and out of your reach, do you still love Dean Winchester?"

She stood from her chair and perched on the edge of the bed, pressing her palm to Dean's still warm cheek gently, before she stroked his hair back from his forehead and turned to Castiel. 

"More than anything, Cas," she answered. "I never stopped."

Castiel got up from the bed and pulled Eva up with him.

"You could kiss him, Eva, but it might not work," he said. "We need to find out if Dean loves you. If Dean is your soul mate, cupid can pinpoint exactly where Dean has fallen or will fall in love with you."

"That makes no sense," Eva said. "If he's yet to fall in love with me, he's in this state forever because I can't wake him."

"Then we get Sam out here," Castiel said. "I'm sorry but that is how it would have to be. But I feel that Dean loves you, I feel he has always loved you, even at your worst."

"I hope you're right," she looked back to Dean before Castiel led her out of the room. "And if cupid lies again?"

Castiel shook his sleeve and a silver blade slid from his sleeve.

"He won't," he answered.


	60. Reignite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reignite; ignite or cause to ignite again.

They agreed that they wouldn't summon the cupid at the club; Mycroft Eva was sure, wouldn't appreciate a scorched floor from burning holy oil, and instead, Castiel took Eva and a bag of supplies to a nearby abandoned warehouse on the banks of the Thames.

"Will Leonard not question these actions you are going to undertake?" Castiel asked as he poured out a large circle of holy oil on the floor.

"Probably," Eva answered as she removed some summoning items from her bag. "Leonard showed me just what kind of person he was yesterday morning. And besides, what kind of future would we have?"

"You wouldn't," Castiel answered. "You cannot go with him and he cannot stay."

"Precisely," she answered, looking up at the angel. "And Leonard will be mad, but there's nothing I can do. There's nothing anyone can do."

Castiel moved to Eva's side and handed her a sleeve of matches before he stepped into the ring with the blade in his hand before Eva followed him with her bowl of herbs. She ignited the ring and the cupid appeared before them, surprised to be surrounded by the flame. 

"You told her," the cupid looked afraid when he saw Castiel and even more so when he saw Eva.

"You lied to me," Eva crossed her arms, looking relaxed as Castiel's grip tightened on the blade. "Dean Winchester is in trouble because of your wrong doing."

"Dean Winchester is hurt?" the cupid looked generally worried.

"Look, I get it," Eva shrugged her shoulders. "Heavens in disarray, you're all running around losing your minds. Half of you are lost, half of you want to discover just what the hell free will is. You're a cupid, you're meant to be the nicer of the angels, nothing is meant to anger you."

"I just wanted to know how it felt to break rank," the cupid looked at the floor. "Everyone else was doing it."

"You put a life in danger," Castiel spoke. "But you can fix this. You tell her everything she wants to know, you tell her the truth."

Castiel lifted the blade and the cupid put up his hands defensively.

"Okay, okay," he shied away from the angel but kept a fair distance between his backside and the flames. "What do you want to know?"

"Is Dean Winchester my soul mate?" Eva asked.

"Yes," the cupid answered.

"Is he in love with me?" she continued, suppressing her surprise for later on. "If he is, when did this happen?"

"He is deeply in love with you," the cupid bowed his head. "Dean Winchester signed his heart over to you a long, long time ago."

"When?" Eva demanded.

"Is that really important?" the cupid frowned. "He loves you, is that not enough?"

"It's important to me!" she yelled. "Answer the question or Castiel shows you the blade."

"The bar in Wyoming, you told him about your parents," the cupid cowered. "It was then that Dean opened up his heart. He loved you still even after the mess with Azazel, loved you when you pushed him so far away because you were _afraid_ of him. He loved you even when he didn't."

"That is enough, cupid," Castiel threatened, but Eva gently held Castiel back. 

"You better not be lying," Eva said darkly.

"There is no incentive for me to lie," he answered miserably. "I am trapped."

"Not for much longer," Eva muttered. 

Pulling a crumpled up piece of paper out of her back pocket, she set it alight and blew it out, causing smoke to rise and set off the sprinkler system that extinguished the fire. 

"You should be thanking me," the cupid said as he stepped over the scorched ground and sprinklers soaked them through. "My kind put you and Dean together. There hasn't been a match like it since John and Mary Winchester, apart from dear Alicia and Sam of course. You and Dean took a little more persuading."

"I should be thanking you?" Eva squared up to him and Castiel watched on. "I don't see how I should be thankful for something I never asked for. You're lucky I'm letting you live."

Eva turned her back and the cupid disappeared. She packed up the things they'd brought and Castiel took them back to the Diogenes before they stood in the lobby, dripping water all over the tiled floor.

"Well..." Crowley stood in the drawing room doorway, hands in his trouser pockets looking over the angel and the hunter. "What have we been up to today?"

"The cupid lied, Crowley," Eva answered. "The one I summoned with your help when Dean was here? Dean isn't married, doesn't have a son."

"You said he was dead," Crowley frowned.

"He isn't dead," Castiel said. "He is under a sleeping curse."

"Buggers to break," Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Magic won't work. The cures a little bit sickly for my tastes to be honest."

"True loves kiss," Eva pushed her wet hair back from her face. "We know."

"I imagine Dean doesn't love an awful lot apart from his beloved car," Crowley walked forwards, taking care not to stand in the growing puddles around the pair in his expensive shoes. "Doubt that would work."

"We summoned the cupid," Castiel looked at the demon, his eyes narrowed. "Eva will wake him."

"You love Dean?" Crowley looked smug; he already knew the answer. "And of course, he loves you, the bumbling idiot doesn't hide it very well."

"He's my soul mate, Crowley," she said. "Not Leonard. I have to..."

She pointed up the stairs and Crowley gave a nod before she hurried off with the angel in tow. Eva scaled the stairs two, sometimes three at a time before she came to her door with Castiel by her side.

"What if it doesn't work?" she turned to the angel. "What if he doesn't wake up?"

"Have faith," Castiel delicately touched her forehead. 

Eva opened the door and Dean still lay there, still rosy cheeked and when Eva took his hand, he was still warm. 

"I'm sorry I slapped you," Eva said as she perched by his side. "Sorry I yelled and didn't give you a chance to explain. I'll never trust a cupid again."

She stroked his hair back once more as Castiel sat in the chair at the bottom of the bed, letting her have her moment with him.

"What's really funny though," she squeezed his hand delicately. "Is that I fell in love with you before you fell in love with me. It was that night at Jillian's, after the day out at the fair. We stood out like two sore thumbs in that place, it was pretty fancy. You had this dopey grin on your face all night and it'd been such a great day... I think I probably ought to kiss you, I can't imagine Purgatory is doing you any good."

Still holding his hand, Eva leant forwards and pressed her lips to his just long enough for the curse to break. When she sat back, Dean's hand was squeezing hers, his green eyes searching Eva's face with surprise.

"Hi," he rasped, his throat dry.

"Hi Freckles," Eva smiled.


	61. Recollect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> recollect; remember (something), call to mind

Eva moved away from the bed, Dean's green eyes following her as she looked at Castiel. The angel gave her a curious look back then she was gone out of the door with her feet carrying her as fast as they could down the hall.

She jumped down the stairs, two, three at a time and almost stumbled at the bottom had it not been for Crowley who caught her by the arm. 

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he asked.

"It worked," she said quickly. "He's awake. I need...I need to go."

"Go where?" Crowley made to tighten his grip on her arm but Eva snatched it away before he even could. 

"Just go," she said, hurrying forwards.

Grabbing her coat off the peg, she was gone out of the door and into a fine rain that had descended over London in the form of a gunmetal grey cloud overhead. 

She knew exactly where she wanted to go.

\----

She decided on taking a taxi cab to where she wanted to be, she didn't feel like a fight on the tube or slinging bullets and knives, not right now. She paid the driver and stepped out at New Scotland Yard, but didn't enter. 

Instead she walked a little while then turned into Christchurch Gardens, a place where she and Dean had sat after she'd learnt the real reason behind the disappearance of Higgins. 

What she didn't expect to see there in the gardens in the fine rain that still fell was an iconic blue phone box with the word 'police' scrawled across the top; well at least it was in relatively the right place.

On a slightly damp bench sat the usual occupant of the blue box, looking her way as she walked through the unusually quiet gardens. He had an unsure look on his face and as she drew closer, he looked at the wet paving slab beneath his feet. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked, sitting beside him with the rain soaking the bottom of her jacket. 

"I knew you'd be here," he answered her, clasping his hands together before hanging them between his knees.

"Of course," Eva sighed, putting her hands into her jacket pockets as she looked at the blue box. "Is something the matter?"

"It's about your boys," he said with a frown. "Perhaps you won't want to hear it, especially with how close to Leonard you are."

"Tell me," she said, her stomach in an uncomfortable knot as he looked at her. 

"I can take them to a point in time, a point in their timeline I should say, where they can make their own way back to their ship," he explained. "They'll have been gone a week to their crew. I can take them to a space dock and they can take it from there."

"Do it," Eva said almost a little too quickly. "Get them out of here."

"But you and Leonard-"

"I've made my peace," Eva shook her head. "I can't go with him and he can't stay here. Even if he could stay, I don't think I'd want him to."

"For what reason?" he asked with curiosity.

"Because he's exactly the man I thought he was," Eva turned a look to him, seeing the rain in the Doctor's hair. "He was unhelpful when I first met him, seems he's reverted. He gave up."

"You've no problem with him going back?" he asked. "With either of them going back?"

"No," she answered honestly. "They'll be safe. They're demon free, magic free and now they'll be London free."

"Alright," he nodded. "I'll be by tonight."

They sat in silence for a few moments before both of them were stunned by the presence of Castiel and a much healthier looking Dean. The Doctor glanced between them as Eva took a nervous breath and looked up to him.

"I thought I'd find you here," Castiel looked at Eva. "Dean would like to talk."

"Okay," she gave a single nod.

"I'll leave you to your business," The Doctor stood and passed a friendly smile to Castiel and patted Dean on the back before he strolled to the TARDIS, but Eva jogged after him.

"I missed you," she said, throwing her arms around him and burying her face against the damp tweed jacket. "Thank you."

He squeezed her back and almost lifted her feet from the floor as Dean and Castiel watched on, the rain dampening the pair of them. 

"I'll see you later," The Doctor smiled at her. "Evelina."

With a smile, she left him and walked back to the angel and Dean as the TARDIS dematerialized, leaving the gardens empty and silent. 

\---

"Cas told me everything," Dean said after a long period of silence. "And for the record, I don't remember anything past you laid out on the floor of the Diogenes covered in blood and bruises."

"I'm sorry," she almost cut him off. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think cupids lied, the thought didn't even cross my mind. I just wanted to be mad at you Dean, I wanted to be so mad."

"I know," he cautiously put an arm around her and she leant into him; he still had his FBI get up on, minus the tie but he'd thrown the jacket back on. "I forgive you, Eve's. I was waiting for you to be mad at me, waiting for the punch, the slap, but you were pretty calm for a long while."

Eva fell quiet for a long while after that and they just sat in silence, enjoying the alone time away from the club, away from everyone else, away from the case.

"You remember when we went out to Arizona?" Dean spoke after a while as he watched London pass by on the road that ran parallel to the park. "You me, Sammy and Al? Al wanted to go for a hike or something, I was so mad at you for scuffing the Impala's bumper I wouldn't let you ride with me."

"What's your point?" Eva muttered from his side, still leant into him. 

"You were mad at me all day," he said as she glanced up; he was telling the story with a smile.

"You were being an ass all day," she reminded him. "I could have hit you for the whole 'saved your life' stint you pulled at the summit of Camelback Mountain."

Dean chuckled a little and squeezed her shoulder where his arm rested around her, remembering the day like it was yesterday. 

"I remember the time we spent with Al's parents in California," Dean settled into the damp bench and Eva barely moved as the rain came down a little heavier. "We must've outstayed our welcome by like the third day."

"You kidding me?" Eva lifted her head, giving him an incredulous look. "Derek and Gillian loved you both."

"I remember the photos above the mantle," Dean laughed; actually literally laughed and God had Eva missed that sound. "Alicia's blonde bunches and glasses and you with this long, dark ponytail and braces."

"We don't talk about those photos," she said with a grin, leaning back against him. 

"I remember the night after Al's parents let us get settled, the four of us were laid out in the living room, living the good life," Dean reminisced. "You laid on the sofa with me and Cas was sat with his back against it. Cas was so comfortable around the pair of you."

"That was the night we decided to go to the beach the next morning wasn't it?" she asked. 

"Yeah," Dean answered, sounding a little dazed. "Man, you looked good that morning; faded denim shorts and the baggy AC/DC shirt."

"You remember what I wore?" she lifted her head and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"You looked beautiful," he looked back at her with a slight smile. "I was so in love with you that day; don't think I'd ever seen you smile so much."

"Shame it had to end," she said, standing up. "Shame that it had to end like this."

She gestured to the space around her, to the dark, miserable sky and the cold, wet floor.

"What the hell happened between you and Al anyway?" Dean said, standing up.

Eva took his hand, it still fitted in hers perfectly like it was meant to be there, and began to walk slowly with Dean at her side. 

"After we left you to the Apocalypse that never was," Eva rolled her eyes and Dean delicately squeezed her hand. "She and I came back to London. We'd helped Sherlock out a couple of times before we knew you, he was happy to see us both, had things for us to do. It was mostly Alicia's idea, she didn't take the whole Apocalypse thing so well and I guess she was okay here for a few weeks, we got a Crocotta, couple of demons, but she couldn't handle it anymore. She wanted to leave but I didn't. Turned out Sherlock's roommate had just gotten married and he needed a new one, I accepted it. Alicia went back to the states I guess. must've found Sam somehow. She sent me photos and letters with no return address, but she's happy now."

"And you?" he asked as they left the gardens.

"I made London my bitch," she gave a slight smile. "I started working at St. Barts, that's the hospital, in the morgue. Sometimes I'm drafted in by New Scotland Yard, sometimes I help Sherlock, each little job helps me find the crazier cases. I befriended some of the supernatural community; there's Nathaniel, he's a Warlock. Bill, Eric, Alcide, the former being vampires and the latter a werewolf. They're good people, I swear, I know you don't agree but I know differently."

"If you know what you're doing Eva," Dean said. "And clearly you do, I'm not gonna be one to judge."

"Good," she smiled as they stopped walking.

Standing up on her toes, she put her arms around Deans neck and pressed her lips to his as he reciprocated. 

"It's much better when you're awake," she said against his lips before she kissed him a second time. "Much, much better."

When they pulled apart, she retook his hand and hailed a cab before they both sat in the backseat, hands still clasped.

"So, what's the plan?" Dean asked. "I'm ready to help if you'll let me."

"Sure," she nodded. "But first, I have some news for Leonard and Kirk. Might not be so pretty."


	62. Decamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decamp; leave a place suddenly or secretly

A thick white mist rolled in over the dank city that afternoon and Eva's teeth chattered as she and Dean walked back through the door of the Diogenes club just after 3pm. She'd thought about their trip to Arizona the whole taxi ride back as she and Dean sat in a comfortable silence and found herself wishing that the Arizona sun would kiss her pale, cold skin for just a split second.

She sent Dean into the dining room where he took a seat at the long, mahogany table before she ventured off to find everyone else. She pulled Crowley from the drawing room along with Sherlock where the pair had been discussing morality over a half empty bottle of scotch and found Leonard and Kirk up in their room before she led them down to the dining room in silence. 

When they took their seats, Eva noticed Mycroft had joined and even the three angels were stood around the table. Eva sat at the top of the table with Dean to her right and Crowley to her left after which sat Mycroft and Sherlock facing one another, then Leonard and Kirk facing one another, leaving the angles hovering around Eva as she folded her hands on top of the table, wondering how best to address the situation. 

"So, I have some news," she said, speaking down the table. "Specifically for you two."

She caught Kirk's bright blue eyes and Leonard's deep, puzzled browns; they'd not spoken since the Crown Court incident and both could feel the tension in the air.

"You're going home," she said after a beat. "I saw The Doctor earlier."

"When?!" Kirk almost jumped up with excitement as Leonard stared at the table top. "When are we leaving?"

"I'm not sure," she answered, as the four closest to her watched her with curiosity. "The Doctor said he'd be by later; I'm not sure if you'll be going then or going later. It's all very...wibbly wobbly."

"You said it wasn't as easy as that," Leonard's tone was accusatory and Eva glanced up, looking wounded as Gabriel laid a hand on the back of her chair. "Ages ago when you and I went for a walk 'round London, we came back and that damn box was in the foyer of Baker Street. You told me it didn't work like that, did you lie?"

"No," Eva answered as Crowley glared down the table, even Dean turned a glare in that direction too. 

"So what?" Leonard's voice raised an octave and Kirk frowned at him wondering where this sudden outburst of anger had come from. "It just magically came about that he could actually take us home?"

"I haven't been traveling with The Doctor," Eva's tone was sharp and cutting. "I've barely been in the TARDIS. There are things he's told me, tiny, little things in comparison to everything else he knows. I don't claim to know about space and the stars or anything that goes on beyond planet Earth. The Doctor found a way and that is all that is important here."

There was an awkward silence for a moment and Leonard turned away shaking his head as Kirk looked down the table at Eva with an apologetic look on his face. After a moment or so, Leonard pushed back his chair and left the room with his hands balled into fists before he took himself back upstairs and left Kirk alone at the table.

"I'm sorry," Kirk apologized. 

"It's okay," Eva answered. "I get it, he's mad because he thinks I lied. Or that I kept something from him."

"He knows you're mad," Kirk responded as the rest of them looked Eva's way. "I wanted to fight with you, I wanted to help. Leonard's a defeatist, he just didn't understand."

"Yeah well," Eva shrugged one shoulder. "The Doctor will be by soon I imagine, he'll explain everything and then I guess it's goodbye."

"It'll be a shame to see you go," Mycroft spoke up. "Be quiet without you both in that room up there."

"As dreadful as you were, James Kirk," Sherlock addressed him. "Your company was appreciated in the time that Eva was missing; you've come far from the stubborn Captain you once were."

"He's right," Eva agreed with a hint of a smile.

"Whadda you say Cas, Bal," Gabriel slapped his comrades on the shoulders. "You hungry? Let's grab a bite. You comin' too Dean-o? Crowles?"

Gabriel nodded to the door and Dean and Crowley took it as their cue to leave before Mycroft and Sherlock followed them out, leaving just Kirk and Eva sat in the empty dining room by themselves.

Kirk shuffled a few seats up so he now sat on Eva's left and stared at his clasped hands on the table top with his blonde brows furrowed over his glacial blue eyes.

"I always thought this day would be easy, well in the start I did," he said, still staring at his hands. "And then I thought this day would never come so I've not really thought about it since Baker Street went bang. I thought you'd given up on us to be honest; I thought Leonard and I would be the last thing on your mind with all the other chaotic stuff you've been dealing with."

Eva listened to him in silence, pulling her knees up to her chest as she sat in the chair watching Kirk's thumbs have their own little thumb war. 

"I promised you I'd get you home," she said after some time. "Promised I'd fix this for you. And while it's not me personally fixing it, you got the next best thing."

"But it's because of you we're going back," Kirk lifted his head and gave her a smile. "It's because of you and Sherlock that we're still alive. You gave us a home, you protected us from whatever the hell it is that's out there."

Kirk nodded to the window behind Eva and she turned around looking out at the murky, misty street that laid beyond the glass. 

"I'm sorry for being such an ass in the beginning," he said, hanging his head once more. 

"It's alright," Eva said, turning back to face him. "I didn't really help the situation. I could have been a little more understanding. You were way out of your time and so far out of your comfort zone."

"You had enough to think about," Kirk gave her a smile. "But thank you. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me," Eva smiled back as Kirk stood from his chair. "It's my job. Kinda."

"A job you don't get paid for," he said as she too stood and tucked her chair underneath. 

"Oh I get paid," she said with a shrug, walking with him out of the dining room. "I get paid in gratitude. I get paid with the knowledge that someone's safe because of me. Getting paid doesn't always mean money."

"That's kinda nice," he said as they stood in the lobby of the club. "I'm gonna get to see you before we go, right?"

He looked unsure and Eva's heart squeezed a little; much like Kirk she'd thought this day was going to be easy, but now that it was here, it wasn't easy at all. 

"Course you are," she smiled back. 

"Good," he said, stepping forwards.

Kirk put his arms around her, taking her by surprise and Eva only just managed to get her arms around him in time as he hugged her tightly.

"I'm gonna miss you, Clarke," he said as they held on to one another. "Shame you can't join us, you'd be a hell of a First Officer."

"I'll miss you too, Kirk," she said, squeezing him. "In another life, you might have made a good hunter."

"You will speak to Leonard," Kirk said as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Won't you? You won't leave it this way?"

"I promise I'll talk to him, Kirk," she said, grasping at his shirt. "I won't leave it awkwardly."

They broke apart and with a nod, Kirk ascended the stairs as Dean descended them, passing him a friendly hello as Kirk returned it. 

"Everything okay?" Dean asked as he watched Eva watch Kirk go up the stairs and disappear from sight. 

"Yeah," she nodded with a dry throat. "It will be."


	63. Linear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I've not updated this one in forever. And I'm sorry the chapter is short and to the point. I'm not giving up on this one though, I promise. I'm going to try and update more and get my final idea in there.   
> Thank you for reading and being so patient!

The Doctor didn't come by that day. Or the next. And between everyone in the large space of the Diogenes Club, the air was tense and slightly awkward. 

Eva had a long time to think about certain things. Like how Kirk had changed in the short time she'd known him. And how close the grumpy space doctor had allowed her to get to him. 

And just how much Dean had changed with a snap of his fingers. There was something still off there, something still not quite right. And she knew what she had to do. She would send Dean back home, or at least, back to America. Along with Castiel. She still had two angels, one an arc angel. 

Dean left the same morning that the TARDIS materialized in the lobby. Eva had been sat on the staircase with Crowley, both drinking a glass of scotch each, Eva searching for her troubles in the bottom of her tumbler. 

When the Doctor bounded out, he looked perturbed by the miserable faces that met him; even Crowley was down. 

"I'll go fetch them," Eva offered, but The Doctor shook his head and nodded toward the still open door of the TARDIS. 

With a quirk of her brow, Eva went inside and cast her eyes over the beautiful red interior before placing herself on one of the spring seats around the console. 

"Now he's gone," The Doctor said quietly. "I can tell you, he was lying all along, Eva. Lisa is waiting for him at home, as is Ben. They think he's on a trip with Bobby."

"Why do you think I sent him home?" she glanced up to him. "He knew I knew anyway, he didn't put up a fight. I think all the others knew too."

She fell quiet and tried to forget the memories in her head of shots and food and fairs with the siblings. Of shabby and chic motel rooms. Of the rumble of the Impala and the leather and gasoline of Dean's jacket. 

Chapter closed. Story over. And nowhere near as upset as she should be. 

"Do they have to go?" she glanced up again, watching the Doctor fiddle with some switches on the console; she wished she could stay here, run away to the stars and never look back. "Can they go another time or would they be stuck?"

The Doctor ran a hand over the flick in the front of his hair and walked over to her, leaning his back on the railings to her side. 

"James T. Kirk has a very specific and important timeline, even up until his death," he said crossing his arms. "Jim has to be with the Enterprise, until his dying day. He is to become and Admiral and great merit is to be bestowed upon him."

"And Leonard?" she said miserably.

"Leonard is alone in that world without Jim," The Doctor met her eyes. "Leonard would become an esteemed Doctor in his century, aboard the Enterprise for the rest of his days."

"So there would be no butterfly effect?" she frowned. "Only with Jim?"

"Leonard has no family to speak of, no marriage, mother or father," he answered. "Nor does he have children. "Leonard would simply cease to exist in that timeline. James Kirk would not remember him, nor would the rest of the crew."

"Oh," she said looking away from him. 

"Is there perhaps something you'd like to talk to him about before we get this underway?" The Doctors expression softened slightly, his hair flopping to one side as he lolled his head. "You don't ask much about your future."

"Because I don't see much of one," she shrugged. "I could die hunting. I nearly died by Moriarty. What's the point in getting all excited for an amazing future if I could just die tomorrow?"

The Doctor sighed and went back to his console, admiring the buttons and levers and switches as Eva stood and made for the door.

"You sure you don't want even just a teeny tiny bit of light on your future?" The Doctor peered out from behind the central column. 

"What is it that your wife says?" Eva turned and smiled. "Oh yeah, _spoilers._ "

\--

Eva ascended the stairs to Leonard and Kirks shared room, glancing down on the blue box as she went. Jim had to go, he had a whole timeline waiting for him. _Must be nice for him_ , Eva thought, _having a whole long line to go at, I don't even know what I'm doing next week._. 

When she walked in, only Leonard was in the room and he looked the opposite way to her. 

"Please talk to me," she almost begged. "The Doctor is downstairs."

Leonard still didnt speak or look at her, his face as stubborn as his current stance.

"Fine, I'll just talk," she said throwing herself into the chair facing him. "And you're going to listen. I don't know whether you're mad, jealous or upset. But I'm mad too. Dean's gone. I sent him back to his wife. And yes, I know all of you knew. I knew too, I guess I just humored him for whatever reason. But I don't care about that. I care about you and whether or not you're gonna go or not."

"Like I have a choice?" he snorted.

"Well actually, you do," she said leaning forward. "But Jim has to go. He has some big bright future ahead of him, he doesn't have a choice. You do. You can go back to the Enterprise, become a massive big doctor and stay with Jim and your friends. Or you could stay here with us, become a Doctor here and have a quiet life." 

Leonard turned to her, a single brow raised and lowered his stance a little. 

"I'm not asking you to do anything Leonard, it's your choice," she said. "I just wanted to let you know you had a choice." 

She stood then from the chair and turned away, walking towards the doors. 

"Like I said, Doctors downstairs," she said without turning to look back at him. "See you down there."

\---

Jim was practically bouncing on his heels when she reached the bottom of the stairs and talking a mile a minute with the Doctor who was grinning at the excited blonde. Eva retook her seat on the stairs beside Crowley who handed her another glass of scotch which she took gratefully as Leonard came down the stairs.

His eyes looked over the box and then over Eva who downed her scotch in one, wincing at the burn in her throat. 

Jim nodded to him, his grin splitting his face apart but Leonard didn't return the look. He sat beside Eva on the stairs and clasped his hands together. 

"Heard I don't have to leave," Leonard said simply.

Jims expression dropped dramatically. 

"But you have to," Jim frowned at him.

"Apparently not," Leonard answered. "And if it's all the same, I'd like to stay." 

"Bones-"

"What do I have back there, Jim?" he looked up to him. "Apart from the ship thats yours and the crew thats also yours. I have no life back there; being here is the most fun I've had since....God, I don't know, but it's amazing here, I wanna see more of it." 

"But you belong on that ship with me," Kirk frowned. "How could you not want to go back?"

"Part of me does," Leonard said standing. "The rest of me wants to stay here. Space is okay, not my favourite. But I don't wanna leave here. I made good friends, met a nice girl, I wanna take my chances Jim. I'm sorry."

"But what happens?" Jim looked stricken and confused. "Do we get visits?"

"No," The Doctor said simply. "You will forget Leonard ever existed but he'll remember you. Your future is already set, Jim. Some peoples are. Time is linear for you, but not for them."

He nodded to Leonard and Eva who looked back at Jim, watching his expression change once again. 

"You can't expect me to go," Kirk looked at the Doctor. 

"You have to," Leonard said. "Like he said, your time line is linear."


	64. Adieu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adieu; a goodbye.

Jim stood in a stunned silence and Eva looked anywhere but at him. She couldn't imagine what he was feeling; his friend of who knew how many years was telling him to leave without him and never see him again.

"Bones," Jims voice was almost a whisper. "What would I do without you?"

"Defer to Spock for better judgment," he chuckled; Eva was surprised he was so chipper.

"I'm serious," Jim's eyes were cold and bright. 

"What would you do if I died up there Jim, on a planet on an away mission?" Leonard met that cold stare and stood, staring him out. "Millions of light years away from home, what would you do?"

Jim was quiet, eyes still fixed on the country doctor. 

"You'd carry on, Jim," Leonard answered for him with a slight sigh. "You would carry on. There would be nothing you could do. No choice to be made. You would carry on without me."

"But this is different!" Jim argued. "This isn't space!"

"But there's no choice to be made Jim!" Leonard argued back. "I want to stay and you have to go."

"We have to go in the next five minutes," The Doctor chimed in. "If you want to get back to your ship."

Jim broke the gaze from Leonard first, his eyes fixating on the floor. 

Eva looked up at The Doctor who was fiddling with his bowtie before she looked to Jim as he stepped forwards to Leonard.

"Thanks," Jim said simply. 

"That's all I get?" Leonard gave a breathy laugh before he grabbed hold of him. "You taught me a lot Jim."

Jims hands reached up to Leonard's broad shoulders and clung on for however many minutes he had left. 

When he let go her went straight to Eva and pulled her up. 

"I don't have long left," he gave his trademark Kirk grin and hugged her tight. "Thank you for taking care of me. Sorry for being such an ass."

"It's been a pleasure," she whispered in his ear before grazing his cheek with a kiss. "I'll take good care of him, scouts honor."  
She gave him a salute and Jim laughed with a few tears in his eyes. 

"Goodbye," Jim gave a nod and took a step back to the TARDIS where The Doctor was getting a little impatient. "And thanks again."

"Yes, yes, all very good," The Doctor said, ushering him into the TARDIS. "Let's go."

Crowley stood as Eva moved to Leonards side, threading her fingers through his.

"Last chance," she said quietly. "Stay or go?"

"You kiddin' me kid?" Leonard looked down to her at his side. " _Stay_."

Her fingers squeezed his as the TARDIS began to dematerialize in front of them. Leonard watched the box fade out before they were left in the grand silence of the Diogenes lobby. 

Crowley gave a smile and wandered away upstairs, leaving Leonard and Eva where they were in the middle of the quiet lobby.

"What now?" he asked turning to her fully. 

"We take on Moriarty," she said, fixating on his deep brown eyes. "We save Sebastian. We make sure Higgins gets out of hospital safely, make sure Lestrade is safe. Sherlock too. We fight whatever comes our way."

"And Nathaniel?" Leonard asked. "Haven't seen him in a while."

"We go see him later," Eva smiled. "All of us. "We need a plan. We don't know if Moriarty would come for me or Sherlock or both at once." 

"What does he want with you though kid?" Leonard frowned slightly. "Sherlock I understand, two intelligent minds, not that you're not intelligent."

Leonard's face held a slight blush that made Eva smile. 

"I get in the way," she shrugged. "I want his Warlock, he doesn't share, so he'll try to get me out of the way."

"And how do we save Sebastian, take care of you and Sherlock?" Leonard gave his usual jaundiced look and Eva sighed.

"I'm working on it," she said looking up to him. "We'll be okay. Now, lets go get some clothes together for later and find out where the hell everyone went?" 

Leonard gave a nod and followed her up the staircase with a small smile across his lips; he was glad he'd given up what he had for this.

He wouldn't change that for the world.


End file.
